


Fields of Vashti

by background_vulcan, emcapi, froghbert_the_frog, greatbirdofthegalaxy, JadeAbarai, SaritAadam, The_Norsiest, yel_halansu



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Gen, OC, OCs - Freeform, Other, Qowat Milat, Romulans, USS Tribble Threat, Vashti - Freeform, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/background_vulcan/pseuds/background_vulcan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/emcapi/pseuds/emcapi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/froghbert_the_frog/pseuds/froghbert_the_frog, https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatbirdofthegalaxy/pseuds/greatbirdofthegalaxy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeAbarai/pseuds/JadeAbarai, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaritAadam/pseuds/SaritAadam, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Norsiest/pseuds/The_Norsiest, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yel_halansu/pseuds/yel_halansu
Summary: There is a blight affecting the crops on Vashti and USS Bartholomew arrives to bring aid.
Kudos: 1
Collections: USS Tribble Threat





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of a collaborative discord RP.  
> Authors are credits as collaborators or in the notes.

\--Bridge--

Late that night, halfway through Delta shift, Lieutenant Vennek Arin is technically in the big chair. The young Bajoran looks nervously at the viewscreen as Ensign Basma Ahmed drops the ship out of warp.

“Entering Lagrange point one around Vashti, sir.”

“On screen.”

The planet appears, floating delicately in space. Endless sandy deserts and rocky hills, small, shallow oceans, scrubby little green patches of more temperate climates, and wispy clouds floating high in the sky.

Ahmed’s console beeps. “We’re being hailed from the surface.”

“Put them through.”

A tired-looking Romulan face fills the screen. “Identify yourselves and state your business,” she says in a mechanical tone.

“I’m Acting Captain Vennek Arin of the Federation Starship Bartholomew,” says the lieutenant a bit too pompously. “We are here to bring emergency relief and scientific investigators to the Romulan colony of North Station.”

“Authorization?” comes the woman’s bored voice without missing a beat.

“Uh - ?”

“Who authorized your orders, who signed off on our end, where is our assurance that you are who you say you are, where are your identification codes and manifests?” the woman rolls her eyes at the “Acting Captain” and her voice becomes impatient.

“She means paperwork, Arin,” mutters Basma. “I always heard these people were tremendous bureaucrats, but it’s something else to see it up close and personal.”

Vennek turns pale. Shit. That was all on his spare padd that he left in his quarters, wasn’t it?

“Downlinking the data to you now, ma’am,” comes Ensign Peacock’s confident voice out of nowhere - well, from the next console over.

Er. Well. Good. Someone was prepared.

The Romulan official’s brow furrows as she squints at the readout of the documents that begin to appear on her screen. “Very well. Good. All right, Bartholomew, stand by for cross-check and verification. We will alert you when we have completed processing and have begun the procedure to open the planetary defense net.”

Then the screen goes black, without so much as a “have a nice day.”

Blink.

“...we’re going to be here for a while, aren’t we,” says Arin. It’s not a question.

Basma head-desks on her console.

Peacock sighs, sits back in her chair, puts up her feet and pulls a deck of cards out of her pocket. “Tongo, anyone?”

HOURS later, probably with a different bridge crew shift, the Romulans finally radio back. The paperwork has been approved.

She transmits the frequencies to use on shuttlecraft shield harmonics and in transporter confinement beams to get to the surface without frying in the planetary defense grid. Vashti is open for business.

Kait takes his seat at the communications desk and promptly sprawls over it. He was aware that he wouldn't be getting any comms any time soon and luxuriates quietly to himself. Maybe he'll go down when his shift is over and help with handing out supplies, for now though; nap time.

\--Sindari’s Room--

Sindari didn't sleep much but got up feeling energetic anyway. She took a quick shower and put on her uniform, they were going to be planet side soon and she wanted to beam down with the first of the medical team. They were going to have to request permission to set up stations and she didn't look forward to having reiterate the same thing over and over.

It also didn't help that the Qowat Milat were dwelling in Vashti as well.

Sindari grabbed her Federation med kit and her personal scanner, making sure they were secured on her person. She was about to head out to the cargo bay when she spotted Verelan's dagger sitting on her dresser.

Fvadt, she had forgotten to give her the dagger back. Sindari grabbed it and attached it to her belt, she would return it when Verelan joined her. She was probably going over the briefing for the 100th time and Sindari didn't want to interrupt.

Locking her door, Sindari headed out to the cargo bay.

\--Zambinn’s Room--

Zambinn bounds from bed with enthusiasm. She takes a pipping hot shower, enjoying the cascade of the water across her hairy skin. Then she dries off and dons her uniform.

Her ears twitch, her tail swishes, time to be a good starfleet officer and help the people of Vashti!

\--T’Vana’s Room--

T'Vana gets up bright and early and gets dressed in formal dull-coloured robes. She is going to meet with the governor and the boys' family today after all, and she wants to make a good impression. T'Vana kisses Sslith goodbye before leaving to wake up the twins. They have not packed up their things as she asked them, so she helps them finish as they get dressed and grumble about it being too early. A while later she sets off with the twins in tow, ready for the appointment that will change their lives, hopefully for the better.

\--Alceste’s Room--

Alceste wakes easily and dresses in his uniform, ties his hair up, and eats a small breakfast of tea and toast while reviewing research about Vashti and the Qowat Milat.

\--Labs--

Zambinn, who absolutely did not beam down to Vashti before the Romulans, is hard at work in the labs. She has a couple of chores to complete before she joins the relief team who will be passing out food and supplies to the people in need. She watches the clock as it slowly ticks by, her tail shaking like a rattlesnakes throughout the day.

Dr. Parker is busy looking over a report. She did however sign off on the ensigns assignment change for the next few days. Not a completely horrible boss, not a horrible starfleet officer who can’t see the benefits to the mission, just worn out and honestly looking to a reprieve from the energetic ensign.

When Zambinn’s lunch time rolls around she finishes up her work and sends a detailed list to Parker. She darts towards the door only to be halted by the scientist. Zam freezes.

“Ensign” she starts in typical down exhale.

“Yes Doctor” Zambinn asks, stiffening in her place.

“Good luck” Parker says and moves out of the way.

Zambinn is stunned for a moment and contemplates the woman. She watches as Parker goes back to her seat and looks over the Vashti plant data. The joy of life always appeared to have been zapped from Parker but in the end she still did her job and upheld her duty.

Zambinn nodded in her direction and the ensign was gone from the lab.

\--Twins Room--

Gaius wakes up early, and looks disdainfully for a moment at Mirok still passed out like a snoring sack of potatoes.

Carefully, he dresses himself in inconspicuous dark clothing and picks up the padd on which he has semi- convincingly forged orders from the lieutenant technically in charge of them. Then leaves a note for Mirok - I'm on the surface, come join me, tell T'Vana not to panic.

When T'Vana arrives at the twins' room, they are gone. The Vulcan stands there for a few moments, her eyes scanning the room, as she tries to control her panic. They have no doubt escaped onto the planet surface... there is still plenty of time left until the adoption appointment, which she hopes they will not attempt to skip. But as street-smart as the boys clearly are, they are currently alone, in an unfamiliar planet which if she has understood correctly, can be fairly dangerous. T'Vana wastes no time to turn and stride towards the transporter room.

\--Cargo Bay--

Sindari checked and rechecked the Cargo as she waited for the all clear. She would feel alot better if she was on the surface doing something, anything.

Her comm chirped and Ensign Peacocks excited voice was put through.

"We are cleared!"

Sindari would have shouted for joy if it weren't for the Transporter Ensign that had been staring at her as she inventoried everything.

"Are you authoriz--" Sindari cut him off with a glare.

"Beam it down" she ordered as she stepped back.

The Ensign nodded sheepishly and punched in the coordinates.

\--Corridors--

After waking up Wayn makes his way to the cafeteria. He barely ate yesterday and now has quite the appetite. He’s planning to beam down later and make himself useful if he can, but he knows the fleet. Right now they’re plenty busy barking orders and setting up. He’d only be in the way.

Inn was hurrying through the hallways, trying to get everything prepared for the science teams beam down, once again not looking where he was going. next thing he knew he was turning a corner, and crashing into someone.

Wayn felt the collision as the wind was knocked out of him. He hit the floor with a thud. Then shook it off and stood up. “You alright?” He asked instantly and offered a hand to his assailant.

"Im alright, tha- Wayn!" he looks up to see the very man he was very logically trying to avoid. "H-hi! Oh gods, im so sorry, i didnt mean to run into you, i just wasnt looking where i was going, im so sorry," he rushes out, while getting to his feet and brushing himself off.

Wayn raises a brow at the reaction, it’s a far cry from the man who’d threatened his life only a few days ago. “It’s alright” Wayn assured him. “You in hurry? Heading to Vashti?” He could only assume most of the medical staff was being used for the relief effort.

"In-indeed, im trying to get everything ready in the labs before i beam down, i intend to see of theres a virus infecting the plants, which i suspect could be the case- anyway. uh, what were, um, what were you doing?" he fumbles awkwardly in an attempt to be polite.

“Just grabbing some breakfast. I figure I’ll beam down later and see if they need some extra hands. Right now I’m sure people are a bit frazzled.” He gives a slight grin unintentionally remarking on the Doctor’s own hurried behavior.

Inn gives a small smile in return. "It is a big event, im sure we can use the extra help," he pauses, fidgeting with his padd. "Listen, Wayn. I wanted to,,,, apologise. for my actions several days ago. my emotional control was compromised at the time, and I should not have threatened you. for that, i am sorry." he says genuinely, dipping his head.

Wayn considers the Doctor thoughtfully. He doesn’t exactly blame him but it had been unexpected. Still, he’s in no position to refuse an apology and it’s not really in him to do so anyway.

Wayn allows his voice to soften. “It alright Inn. I seem to have brought out the worst in people lately.”

Attempting to make the conversation lighter he adds “how go the swimming lessons?”

Hmm, the possibility of the man drowning him wasn’t so appealing. “Maybe” Wayn answers as they move through the corridors. He wants to know more about the programs, sure that his Holowayn one had something to do with that. “They were able to get rid of the programs then?” He asks, hoping they’d managed to.

"They were successful." he nods. "There was one program, who we believed to be of an old terran deity by the title 'charles entertainment cheese.' dreadful thing, it is fortunate that it is gone." he shivers slightly at the thought of it.

“A deity named Charles? That’s a rather weird name” Nawayn says.

They reach the end of the corridor where Wayn needs to turn to reach the cafeteria. “Well I’m glad it’s gone. Maybe that’s one of the things I can help prevent now that they’re using me for security.” He says offhand.

"They are using you for security?" he raises an eyebrow ridge. "i suppose that is logical,, anyway, have a good day, wayn. Live long and prosper." he holds up a ta'al, before continuing to the labs.

Wayn gives a Ta’al back and heads to get some grub.

\--Vashti--

North Station is a run-down sort of place. If Vashti had tumbleweeds, they would occasionally roll through the frame.

The administrative building, right now, is half dusty spaceport and half warehouse. Some offices and communications equipment. And Governor Havran, currently pacing around one of the storage rooms, brooding.

It's empty. They're running out of emergency rations, less than twenty years after the founding of the colony. The fields aren't bearing fruit.

Havran knows the Starfleet ship should be arriving soon. He fights back an old, well-trained reaction of disdain and enmity at the thought of them - that was the old world, that was his old life, that was wrong in the first place.

They must be here. They must really come.

Once, Havran had liked to come to these cavernous warehouse spaces and imagine refitting them as a proper Senate chamber. Today, he's fighting to keep from picturing it as a morgue.

\--

The Romulan colony as a whole is basically a smallish town in a scrubby, arid landscape. Poor, but not yet destitute.

The houses all have windows looking out the front walls, as Humans tend to build. To a Romulan, these are terribly rude and embarrassing, so everyone has come up with some way of blocking the view from the street into their homes - curtains, boards, paper, you name it. It makes the place look, to Terran eyes, even more like a ghost town.

Kids and adults alike are present here, more children than there were at the colony's founding, for sure. There are a few small schools on the planet, doing the best they can. The Federation colonies have vastly superior schools, but the Romulans generally don't care to send their children - already born as exiles - to be raised in a foreign culture.

On the edge of town is the remains of a starship's belly, torn apart and rebuilt as a land structure - a restaurant, to be specific, partly open air, informal, every visible surface decorated with colorful folk art in the style of Rateg province.

And then there's the Qowat Milat compound: airy, open houses, small private fields and livestock pens, wide open spaces for training or meditating or communing with nature, such as it is.

Sister Saeihr feels curious today in spite of herself. They say a Federation ship is coming to bring a restock of medical supplies, emergency rations, and a science team to try to understand why every living thing is beginning to refuse to live on Vashti.

Though Saeihr suspects it's simply that the plants don't like it here any more than the people do.

The agricultural fields stretch towards the horizon in every direction outside the town. Grain, legumes, fruit trees, berries, all the usual staples, some native to Vashti, others hastily grabbed from the last seed vaults on Romulus as the last ships were scrambled to evacuate.

Now most of them are stunted, pale and wilting. They get halfway to bearing fruit and seem to give up, keeling over in exhaustion. Spindly and brittle.

\--

Sindari materialized in a small open stretch of dry land that acted as the transporter pad.

Vashti was just as barren as the report had said, maybe even more so. Her stomach twisted in knots at the sight of the dry land and dying vegetation.

Elements the air was stifling too.

Sindari scanned her surrounding, the tired faces that eyed her suspiciously were a welcome change from those on the ship. She almost regretted wearing her uniform down but unfortunately she was here under fleet orders so she had to wear the fleet colors.

She pulled out her tricorder and headed towards the familiar shape of the restaurant.

\--

Zambinn materialized near the supplies. Lt. Honeycomb held a PADD and checked the chart to make sure everything was in order. “Good morning!” Zambinn called and the officer turned round to the ensign.

“Zambinn, I take it you’re responsible for the scones?” She asks, slight amusement on her breath.

“Of course, would you like some?” She holds out the box to Tera, but the human shakes her head.

“No thanks, but if you’ve had enough you can start with the Beta team. Second sector, south facing. Deliver rations to the houses and report back for other supplies.” The Lt. Drones her orders.

If not for the box of pastry in her hands Zam might have saluted “aye sir.”

She gets to work.

Zambian hauled the rations on a hover cart and found the first building. To call it a ‘house’ just wasn’t proper. She stared at the windows which were all covered up when facing the streets. The lower one having some art that had clearly been made by a creative child, or an adult who had no artistic ability whatsoever. Either way the depiction of three point eared stick figures chasing a monster/animal/thing was endearing.

The ensign walked up to the front door of the building and knocked.

There was no reply.

Zambian waited a few moments and then tried again. Nothing. She waited a few more and then pounded against the frame, fearing she’d not been heard. There was the slightest movement from a window, a length of fabric being pulled back to see who was there. When Zambinn spotted them the covering was instantly brought back to cover their form.

“Hey!” Zambinn called but they didn’t answer. Why was no one answering?

Zambinn sighed and stepped back. She began to count the floors. She checked her PADD but there was no way to determine the average size of household. She made an estimated guess and left the appropriate amount of rations in front of the door.

She then tried the next building.

Then the next, and the next. She was absolutely certain people were home. Lights turned on or off. There was the sound of laughing children. She peeked through a few boards here and there but ultimately couldn’t see a thing. Again and again she left rations at the doors again and again she knocked to no answer.

It was somewhere around the sixth apartment building that the half-Caitain felt a chill, very odd given the state of the humidity and heat in the planet. Her hair stuck up and she looked around. At the end of the street there were three figures. At this distance she couldn’t be sure of their gender but she’d guess they were women. She also had to guess that they were Romulan given the blue head dresses that covered their ears. They stared at her for a moment, dark eyes completely set an curious. It was, in a word, freaky.

Zambinn took her rations and started down the street... the three figures followed.

Again Zambinn tried another door. There was no answer and the three woman stared at the half-Caitain as they moved closer. The eerie and oddly empty streets of the neighbor was not helping to settle her uneasy feeling. She knocked louder. They moved closer. Louder. They were a house away. She pounded on the door hoping against hop someone would let her inside so she could escape their honed in stare.

Zambinn batted, she banged, her claws came out as the fear settled in. ‘Scared cat’ she heard some old voice say inside her head. ‘No I’m not!’ She screamed back. And Zambinn whirled around to face her assailants as they stood at the steps below her, blocking her escape. Still staring…

Zambinn flinched at their close proximity but stifled her fear. ‘You’re a starfleet officer Shaw! Pull it together’ she told herself. The scientist cleared her throat and looked down at the Romulans. “Hello,” she said clearly and held up a hand in a wave. “I’m ensign Zambinn Shaw of the USS Bartholomew. I’m here to deliver rations.” She explains, her heartbeat rapid in her chest.

They said nothing in response but held out their hands in complete Synchronization. Cupped then unfolded.

“Oh” Zambinn thought out loud as the realization dawned on her. “Oh! Of course.” She reached the hover wagon and took a set of rations. “You must be very hungry. Here.” She placed the packets, two each into their open hands.

One of them raised their eye brow and responded in a dialect the translator couldn’t make out. “I’m just gonna assume that means Thank you and say You’re welcome!” She replied with a sheepish smile.

The three woman looked at each other and spoke in hushed tones. They gestured for the ensign to follow and started making their way around the building.

With the curiosity that came with her species (along with a certain Terran animal we do not speak of) Zambinn followed the them.

The building was a mishmash of parts that had been somewhat cohesively soldered together. The windows on the side of the building much less formal, not quite in rows and almost appeared strategically placed. One of the lines of material ran from the top right corner to near the left corner base. And subtly, ever so subtly there was a thin mark like a door way connected to it.

Zambinn tilted her head to the left then to the right. If she were looking at it head on it disappeared. But if she came at it from an angle it was there. It was in fact a door.

The Romulan woman moved towards it and knocked.

There was hardly the wait that Zambinn had endured as an older man of leather worn face and ancient eyes opened up. He balanced himself on a cane and spoke softly to the women. One of which handed him the rations. He eyed the starfleet ensign suspiciously for a moment but a few more words from the women had him accepting the gift. He called inside and instantly two children, one around ten and the other about twelve rushed to the door. They took the extra rations the other nuns carried and laughed as they sprinted back inside.

Zambinn arched her head and could see movement, a line of people, neighbors, family, whoever were glancing from behind the senior citizen. Their curious gaze fell on Zambinn in the same fashion hers fell on them.

The nuns spoke again in the language she didn’t know and then they gestured for her to bring the cart. The ensign obeyed and it wasn’t long before she was passing out packet after packet of food.

Most people took it with suspicion, making a show of not trusting the half-Caitain, but take the food they did. A few were kinder, offering her a smile. Some simply snatched it from her hands and turned around quickly, as if she might change her mind. Then, there was a mother, holding her baby who seemed malnourished and small. She actually let a tear escape her eye, much to the disapproval of the man standing to her left. But I’m that moment the ensign was reminded exactly why she had gone to the academy. It made every other rude gesture, suspicious glance and obvious curse pass by her, unfazed.

When at last the secret door was shut Zambinn turned back to offer a thank you to the women. No words were exchanged but the ensign mimicked their hand moments as best she could and have them a smile.

Then Zambinn when back to the other houses and searched for the secret doors.

\--

T'Vana beams down to the appointed drop-off point for the Starfleet crew and takes off immediately. She strides down the shabby streets silently, paying attention to every corner and every face, trying to locate the twins.

Vashti is T'Vana's first experience of a planet that is not Vulcan, and needless to say, it is not a positive one. Even as she controls her fear for the twins' safety, she cannot help but notice the hardship the place is enduring. It looks unduly aged, battered, rushed; the houses have clearly been constructed in a haphazard fashion, from cheap materials, with little thought given to civic planning or architectural beauty. Everything is too neglected, and at the same time too new, and seems to lack the gravitas of tradition that she is used to from her home, the only world she knows. The suspicious stares of the locals as she rushes down the streets don't help her feel at ease either. Ironically, the only thing that provides her with any respite is the stifling heat. She has missed the warmth of the sun since the mission began, the starship always too cold for her taste. But even that is somehow warped, the air is just a tad too humid, the atmosphere has just a bit too much oxygen, the gravity of the planet is too light. At least she can use this last characteristic to her advantage as she darts across the settlement, looking for Mirok and Gaius and trying to attract as little attention to herself as possible.

It is not long before T'Vana has searched most of the residential areas and wandered off into the derelict business district. She continues her search.

Gaius and Mirok have managed to convince the transporter operator to accept their forged permission slip and have beamed down to the colony.

For the first time in their lives, they feel the ground of a planet under their feet.

Hot air, not climate-controlled, blows into their faces and ruffles their hair. Mirok inhales some dust and coughs, Gaius squints his eyes against the bright light of the binary suns.

They are well-hidden in an alley for the moment, and are dressed to blend in. They won't be immediately found. Which is exactly how they like it. They pull themselves together, exchange a gleeful look, and start to explore.

Following their noses, the first thing they find is a snack cart. There isn't much on offer, but there are some sticks of barbecued meat that set both their mouths watering.

Damn it, they forgot to bring money.

But they have their....charming personalities?

Gaius walks boldly up to the vendor, who looks down at them in vague confusion. "Two of those, please!" he says, immensely proud of himself, in Rihan.

The vendor squints, shakes his head apologetically, and replies in Menku.

Whoops.

Mirok tugs on Gaius' sleeve. "Come on, let's just go back to the ship and find T'Vana, we can get something from the replicator...."

But Gaius narrows his eyes right back at the vendor. Challenge accepted.

The first thing he tries is speaking more slowly in Rihan.

The vendor...probably knows exactly what he's saying, to be perfectly honest, but people get pissy about languages and he's making a point: "learn my language or don't expect anything from me."

Then he tries Federation standard. Even worse - the vendor raises a hand threateningly and says what is, surely, "get lost, you random street urchins!"

Well, a Romulan knows when to retreat. Gaius scowls at the vendor as if to say "this isn't over," and walks away, Mirok close behind him.

"We need to buy one of those universal translators," Mirok points out as they walk down another dusty street. "They work automatically on the ship, but out here, we'll need a portable one."

"You got any money, wise guy?"

"You're one to talk."

But then, Gaius catches sight of something. Another snack bar, this one much better attended as it's also lunchtime, serving the same sort of snacks.

He tucks himself into a hidden corner, focuses his attention, and listens to people as they put in their orders...as they say their polite hello's and thank you's...notices what are the numbers, and what are the names of the foods....

Mirok looks at him in bewilderment as he sits there in a kind of trance.

"Come on, Gaius, let's just get something and go, these ones smell better than the other stand anyway...."

"No," says Gaius in an extremely serious tone. "We have a point to prove." And he drags Mirok back to the original vendor.

The original vendor nearly throws something at the boys when he sees them approaching to bother him again, but Gaius shoots him such a determined look, a demand to be respected, that he puts down his hand and simply waits.

Gaius clears his throat, smirks, and orders two of the spiced meat sticks, in heavily accented, halting Menku.

The vendor looks at him for a moment, clearly struggling to keep an expression of impressed respect off his face. Wordlessly, he hands over two kebabs, and one bonus piece of fruit. Gaius tilts his head and pronounces the correct thank-you, and hands one kebab and the fruit to his utterly mystified brother.

They walk down another street, munching in silence. After a while, Mirok speaks up.

"That's not normal, is it. That you can do that."

Gaius shrugs. "It's normal for me."

\--The Restaurant--

The restaurant was currently more of a dusty bar. There was a few small groups of Romulans sitting around the scattered tables, gambling, drinking, or speaking in hushed whispers. A few of the more daring ones stood at the bar and drank solemnly while conversing. Rumors and conspiracies floated around about why the crops were dying and who the Governor had called.

Not that Dhael cared. She stood behind the bar idly scrubbing the dust off the glass, like she had been the past hour. She was lost in thought like everyone seemed to be hear.

Someone tapped the tritanium bar, signaling a refill. Dhael forced herself out of her thoughts and looked for the bottle of Ale. Well, it was supposed to be Ale, but they had cut it with the last of the fruit juice in an attempt extended the bottle. It had worked as well as expected.

She filled up the glass with a sad smile and a nod as the Romulan went back to his table.

Sindari stood 87 feet away from the entrance, just enough room to maneuver herself out of anything disruptor based flying at her.

She spotted Dhael almost instantly, working behind the bar like she always did. She hadn't changed much save for the dust now speckling her hair. But she was distracted right now and that is all that mattered.

Sindari quickly moved and followed the tell tale signs of the disturbed dust to the far side of the dismantled ship.

Sitting outside in the shade of the over hang was an elderly Romulan man. He was scanning through his PADD oblivious to his surroundings, stopping occasionally to let out a hacking cough.

Sindari stepped quietly behind him until she was an arm's length away.

Leaning forward she playfully whispered "Di'ranov." Before stepping back quickly.

The old man jumped up from his seat and whipped around, dropping the PADD and apparently glass of water that he hand balanced on his leg.

"Bl-" He started before quickly realizing who it was. "Sindari." he hissed.

Any irritation was quickly broken as he pulled her into an embrace. "Did your sister see you?" He pulled away just enough to look down at her.

Sindari shook her head. "Slipped past."

Taev motioned to one of the overturned crates, taking back his own seat with a grunt. "Well, fill me in."

Sindari took a seat and began.

\--Transporter--

Lodzhal arrives at the transporter-room, wearing the pants uniform instead of the skant for once, with all his scientific equipment and his technobabble ready. He steps on the pad and nods at the engineer behind the control panel to be beamed down.

\--Fields--

Ensign Ngata has arrived early and waits eagerly at the meeting point by the fields for Lieutenant Lodzhal to arrive for the analysis to begin.

Lodzhal materializes on the field, a few meters away from Ngata. He makes his way to the ensign with a ta'al.

"Tena Koe, Lieutenant" ensign Ngata nods. "Are you ok?"

"I am well, thank you ensign. How are you?"

"I'm well too, Lieutenant. A little worried, I guess. Should we start taking the samples? I've already calibrated this tricorder to the atmospheric conditions" Ngata says, passing his tricorder to Lodzhal.  
  
Lodzhal takes the tricoter, quickly checks the parameters with a nod and respond. "Yes. We should take samples of the seeds and the soil. I also wish to analyze the water they use to irrigate the field, if it is possible."

"I think there's a pipe over there" Ngata says, gesturing towards the east. Indeed, there is a pipe carrying water over there, hidden at first from sight by the reeds. "How about you scan the stuff directly with the tricorder and I'll take some samples to take with us to the lab" he suggests, taking out some small test tubes.

Lodzhal nods and moves to the pipe. He opens it, scans the water coming out of it, and closes it. He than moves to scan the soil and the seeds.

"Do we know where Vashti got their crops?" He asks Ngata as he frowns at the readings.

Lodzhal's tricorder quickly shows the result of the scan. The water appears normal. The plants, of course, show signs of stunted growth, are pale and are not bearing fruit. The soil shows a clear nitrogen deficiency.

"They carried their seeds directly from Romulus, I think, before the nova. Seems to have been a last-minute thought, they took them from a random silo" Ngata says, remembering some pre recon report he'd read before arriving. "They have grown their plants here for years without many issues, but suddenly they just... wilted".

Lodzhal taps his fingers against his PADD. If the issue is with the soil, it may simply be because the farmers overused the field. But if it was the case, the scan would show more deficiency than nitrogen.

"The issue seems to be with the soil," he tells Ngata. "May you take more sample of it? I am going to scan the ground out the field to compare it."

"Of course" Ngata nods, and he sets about taking several samples of the soil in different areas of the field, just in case, placing them all into small test tubes for later and labelling them carefully.

The soil just outside the field, on the small stretch of wildflowers by the dirt road, shows no nitrogen deficiency, but otherwise has all the same components as the ground within the field borders.

Lodzhal returns to Ngata, looking over his scan. "Do you know what products they are using for their soils? Or if they changed it recently?"

Ngata hesitates for a moment as he checks the report on his PADD. "Standard set'leth manure it seems, all natural. Some mild Terran-made pesticides, when they can get them from the Federation settlement... The same stuff they've been using since they settled here"

Lodzhal frowns and taps a finger against his chin, lost in though.

"We should get this back on the ship. Unless there is something else you wish to analyze?"

"I can't think of anything else" Ngata shrugs. "I'll have the samples all taken to the lab for further testing, Lieutenant"

With that, both men walk off the field and back to the meeting point, and are transported back on board

\--Transporter--  
After lunch Wayn checked with one of the ensigns who still liked him. Apparently things were running smoothly on the surface or as smoothly as they could. He decided to beam down and get a taste of the locals. Maybe then he could find a way to help. Or maybe he’d just get a good drink.

Either way Wayn beamed to Vashti

\--Vashti--

The streets weren’t exactly crowded. There were people but they bunched together in protective groups. A few humans, some Bajorans mingled among the Romulans. Though they were few and far between. The Betazoid himself stood out like a sore thumb, clearly with starfleet, because otherwise why would he be here?

Several people watched Wayn from the corner of their eyes with suspicious. He suddenly wondered how Keras was doing. Wayn recalled the few things he’d been taught. How the houses weren’t supposed to have windows facing the street. To an untrained eye the boarded windows would have made it sketchy, but the betazoid only saw a people trying to pay homage to their ancient traditions.

A group of teenagers scowled from an alley as he passed. Some might call them hoodlums, a street gang ready to pounce. But Wayn noted the dice and paper that was being used in lew of a board. Not some band of punks but a group of kids just playing a game. huddled in the alley because it was ‘safer’ than being on the street itself. Safer from strangers like the one who passed them now.

Wayn knew they weren’t his people but he wondered if Starfleet, if anyone other than Romulans ever looked at this place and saw more than a backwater world with no hope and little life. He was lost to the query when he spotted the restaurant/bar. Wayn rubbed his hands together, snapping out of the melancholy thought.

Time to make an impression!

Wayn looked over the woman now leaning on the bar. Hmm, if only he wasn’t a one person man now. He still gave a smile and offered a Romulan greeting “Jolan’tru” he said.

In traditional way he stood by the door for a moment to be seen before stepping forward.

Dhael straighted up at the unfamiliar voice. " _Aefvadh_ " she eyed him up and down before motioning to the empty seating.

He was new alright, way to fresh looking, though nice to look at. "You came too early for dinner." She informed him with a smile. "I got ale and ale."

Wayn nodded and took the offered seat. “Ale sounds great.” He said, having no clue what he was in for.

Taev placed a finger over his lips as he led Sindari to the back of the kitchen, not that he needed to tell her of all people to be quite. It was just a habit. She looked around for a spot to sit on and eventually settled for leaning on the stove.

"Let me just break the news to your sister." he whispered. "Don't move."

Taev slide the door shut and headed to the front of the restaurant.

Dhael brought over a glass and poured the ale. The normally bright blue liquid had a ring of purple, a bit darker than normal which told Wayn straight away it was off. Still, not likely to be poisoned as that would ruin a restaurants business. He eyed it for a moment as Taev came out. The Burlier Romulan man staring at Wayn as the Betazoid raised the drink to his mouth for the first sip. It was... not good.

Curiosity had always gotten the better of Sindari. She couldn't hear anything thanks to the old damping fields and she wanted to at lest know what was going on before made her appearance.

Slipping out of the kitchen she inched her way to the front, keeping out of sight.

Wayn grimaced at the taste, a cross between sour and sweet that absolutely didn’t work together, leaving something more... ‘fermented’ in flavor.

Taev instantly caught the look. “Something wrong?” He asked gruffly, his eyes narrowing at this stranger in his bar.

Wayn considers his options. He couldn’t say the truth and be offensive, but if he lied it was sure to be caught. He swirled his glass he contemplated. “It’s... what I ordered.” He finally settled. Though in truth it wasn’t, how could anyone call that ale!?(edited)

Sindari stopped in her tracks. That couldn't be who she thought she was hearing. A rush of rage at the thought that he must have followed her, before she remembered she had been talking to her father long before he wandered in her.

Dhael stifled a giggled and turned "He hates it too." She wiggled the drink at her father.

Wayn was torn between smiling at Dhael or holding Taev’s stare. He wound up breaking his gaze to look back behind the bar. “I would never accuse my host of diluting otherwise good ale.” He started softly.

Taev crossed his arms and shifted his weight. “On Vashti we do what we need to.” He says simply. A non-answer to the non-question.

What was it with Romulans?

Sindari smirked at the reply. _Hhakh Kllhe_ was quickly getting on her fathers bad side if he continued talking. Maybe she wouldn't even have to intervene after all. She listened intently.

Wayn put down his glass and considered his words carefully. He nodded in reply. “You have a business to run and family to provide for. No one could accuse you of doing less than what you needed to to survive.”

Taev remained impassive as his daughter let her eyes flick between the two of them. She hoped it didn’t come to shouting or violence, she deplored that.

Wayn then asked “do you happen to have any Cava syrup?”

Taev’s brow arched all the more “the stuff for cleaning, why?”

Wayn continued “its edible. Tastes like shit but not everyone knows that if you dilute it with water and boil it to take out the bitterness it taste pretty similar ale. In fact some Ferangi bootleggers try to pass it off as the real deal. You could cut it into your supply. Still be watered down ale but it would taste more like the real thing. Not fruit.” He took another sip and grimaced again.

Taev ponders that for a moment, not letting his gaze off the Betazoid. Finally he pulls his arms free and leans onto the bar, down into Wayn’s face with a mean expression. “Giving my that information so freely. Do you even realize how suspicious that is? What’s after, tell me how to cook, tell me how to serve, next thing I know you’re running the bar and I’m out on the street. Isn’t that what you’re up to? Why else would you tell me that, what could you possibly get out of it?”

Dhael holds her breath.  
  
Wayn pulls the glass from his mouth and pushes it closer to the Romulan. “If I’m lucky?... a decent fucking drink” he answers.

They hold each other’s stare for a long moment and then... they both burst into laughter.

If there was any soul in Sindari, it was dying inside. She gritted her teeth and stepped out of the hall, intent on punching Wayn again.

"Kllhe. What are you doing?" She growled.

Dhael dropped the Ale in shock.

"NO!"

Wayn finally caught the mood of the room and went back to sipping his rancid tasting drink. Taev looked between both women, the one who’d asked him to warn her sister and the one who’d asked to be warned about her sister.

He leaned over to Wayn “you know my daughter?”

Wayn arched a brow now realizing the problem “mmhmm” he said against his glass.

“Any advice then?” Taev continued.

Wayn pulled the glass away “run?” He suggested. Then shrugged “that never really works for me though.” He admits.

Taev turns to the woman “I was going to tell you.”

Dhael face was an angry green. She lets out a frustrated growl and marched to the bar to angrily snatch a rag.

"Of course." she snapped, turning to Sindari. "Well, welcome back." She gave a mock curtsy as she marched right back to the dropped Ale.

Sindari watched her sister stone faced before breaking into a smile. "Many thanks, _rinam_." she said sweetly.

Sindari turned to Wayn, smile gone in an instant. "Leave, _Kllhe_."

Wayn looked between the sisters. Then sighed, he owed her distance. He got up from the stool and waved to Taev. “Cava syrup” he reminds him.

Taev gives a nod “come back in and you can try the results.” He offers. Then turns back to face his problems.

Wayn thinks about saying something to Sindari, something about not losing her temper and if she needed to he’d be her punching bag later. But he didn’t. He simply turned and exited the bar.

Dhael didn't look up from her furious scrubbing as whoever that was left and eventually the three of them stood in a heavy silence for a moment before it became unbearable.

Sindari stood behind the bar, happy to ignore the occasional phaser like glare that came her way, and began going through the bottles. Picking up one of the heavier one she sniffed at it, pullling a disgusted face almost instantly. "Elements, what is in that?"

Her father let out a tired sigh and yanked the bottle away. "Not Cava." he said placing it back on the shelf.

\--Labs--

Lodzhal returns in his lab with the samples and immediately goes to work.

Sslith wanders through the door, PADD in hand. She makes a couple checks, obviously just doing busy work, and looks over to Lodzhal. "Hello!" She pauses. "What are you working on?" The question seems odd on her tongue, like she's been considering conversation topics in her spare time.

Lodzhal looks up from his microscope and blinks a few times, coming back into reality.

"I am trying to determine why the Vashti's crops are dying," he answers.

Sslith blinks. "What's wrong with them?" She pauses. "Oh. Wait. That is the question." She walks over. "Can i... watch? Or help? I don't do much with organic plants anymore but my home planet is fairly... agricultural."

Lodzhal stands up from his stool and gestures to Sslith to have a look. "The soil I low in nitrogen, but I can't seem to find why," he explains.

Sslith considers. "Have they been rotating their crops? Is it everywhere?"

"The low nitrogen is only in the fields," Lodzhal responds. "And I have considered that possibility, but wouldn't it alter everything else with the nitrogen?"

Ensign Ngata enters the room just in time. He greets the officers, and sets down the case of test tubes he's bringing with him on the counter. He silently starts to organise the samples.

Sslith shrugs. "...Probably?" She pulls up a new page on her PADD. "What else could remove it exclusively... leeching?" She reads from her reference text. "Or flooding. Any evidence of floods recently?"

"I did not see that in the report. Ensign Ngata?" He asks the npc with the information.

Ngata types a few things on his PADD as he looks for the info. "Nope, no floods. The climates too dry for that"

Ensign Ngata also notices that a similar problem had been observed during the previous growing season, but in a much smaller and more confined area.

Sslith scrolls through the PADD. "Hmmm... bacteria uptake? Any, um. Funky-fresh strains?"

"Did they kept last year's crops by any chance?" More material to study could not hurt.

Ensign Ngata looks at Lodzhal in disbelief, with an incredulous raised-eyebrow expression he must have picked up from a Vulcan lab partner. "No way. They were already struggling as it is, they were eaten or used to re-plant" he says. "But, maybe it is a bacteria thing... we'd need to do more analysis for that"

Lodzhal nods and grabs one if the sample, preparing it for further study.

Sslith blinks, pleased with herself. "How would you test for that?"

"I am just going to let the samples in contact with various product and see what will result of it," Lodzhal shows Sslith the empty petri dish he has in hand.

"Shouldn't we check it as it is too though?" Ngata chimes. "Just, you know, as control, I guess"

Sslith nods. "That sounds... smart."

She holds an awkward thumbs up. "How long will it take?"

Lodzhal puts the soil in a petri dish and let it to rest.

Ngata looks towards their superior officers for guidance. They were starry eyed and ready to work.

Nihvas enters the lab, ready for their shift and excited to work on something more collaborative than the roach project for a few days. "Hi everyone," they greet the group. "Can someone catch me up on what's happening with the crop problem so far?"

Sslith looks to Lodzhal, no longer Confident in her findings when faced with a stranger.

Ngata looks to Lt. Sslith for the answer, they were just here for a good time with a soil sample.

"We are testing the soil, looks like the results are going to take time." They say unhelpfully.

Sslith shrugs. "Bacteria?" She supplies again.

"Thank you, ensign," Nihvas resists rolling their eyes. "What are you testing for? Oh, I'm Lt. Li, by the way, I specialize in microbiology."

Ngata blushes at the supposed praise.

"Okay, bacteria is likely present. Are the samples in incubation yet?" they ask, directing the question more towards the gorn Lieutenant, hoping that rank might imply some more decisive knowledge.

Lodzhal comes back in the room with a huge boiling cup of tea.

"Greetings lieutenant Li. Are you well," he sits at his work station

"Lt. Lodzhal!" Nihvas sighs in relief. At least someone here would know what's going on. "I'm doing very well - glad for the excuse to work on a team again! How are you?"

Lodzhal considers everyone crowning his lab. "I am fine," he sips his drink. "We are actually testing the soil for bacterias, but if you have any other idea, feel free to express them."

\--Arboretum--

Will finishes his daily checks, everything was perfect as always. He nods staunchly and tucks his PADD under his arm.

He takes a moment to take in the rooms vast green-ness before stepping out of the room and towards the labs. In the hopes that he might be able to speak to Lodzhal. Unaware of the problems the science team is currently facing.

\--Labs--

Will enters the door to Lodzhals lab and is shocked to see so many people crowding around, he listens to the frantic chatter about bacteria and dead vegetation.

"There's a problem planetside?" He asks, not bothering with greetings.

Sslith's eyes go wide. "Um. Yes?" She's slightly em overwhelmed by the new faces and takes a step back from the conversion as the botanist abs scientist return. She's really much better suited for watching. She nods to Will in greeting. It has been a while.

"Hello Will," Lodzhal smiles to his partner. "Yes. Their crops are not growing. Didn't you read the briefing we received?"

"Naw," he says bluntly before turning on his heels and leaving to go check it out for himself. The problem would be solved by the science team, but he needed to know the state for himself.

Nihvas tries and fails to conceal a snort of laughter at Lodzhal's deadpan jab.

"Well he was helpful." they mutter as Will leaves.

Lodzhal looks at Will lovingly as he leaves.

"He is going to check the plants by himself," he informs Nihvas.

Nihvas stares at the expression on Lodzhal's face. There is a certain soft crinkle around his eyes, and Nihvas begins to wonder... Lodzhal and Will? Hmmmm. Maybe they spend too much time alone in their lab…

"While we wait for the incubation, I think I'd like to go planetside. Are you available to join me, Lieutenant Lodzhal?"

Lodzhal looks at the petri dishes and the other samples he is not using, his brain coming up with other tests.

"I think I am going to stay. But I hope you will enjoy Vashti," he smiles.

"Thank you," they smile in return. "Comm me when you're ready to start sample analysis!" Nihvas heads back out the door, feeling a buzz of excitement about setting foot on a planet for the first time in weeks.

\--Vashti--

The twins wandered the streets, taking it all in. A town, as it turned out, was...like K-7, only bigger. Sunlight, that was something new. And even in the bustling, chattering streets, both boys perceived an unnerving sense of stillness and quiet: no warp core humming in the background, no subtle vibration of machinery under their feet. 

Mirok finished the last bite of his fruit and tossed the pit to the side of the road.  
“Say, do you know how to get back to the ship from here?” he asked.

Gaius thought for a moment. “Now that you mention it, no,” he admitted. “But I’m sure we’ll run into some of the crew eventually.”

For now, they stuck close to each other, and blended in with the crowd. Another first: in a town full of Romulans, surrounded by people who looked like them, they knew the feeling of pleasant anonymity. The good kind of invisibility. Nobody staring.

Suddenly, Gaius’ eye was caught by something odd on the side of a big building nearby.  
It was a central sort of edifice, probably an administrative building, and had been built in a way that suggested an attempt at grandeur. The boys drew closer, and realized that one side of the building was painted with an enormous mural, depicting scenes from Romulan history.

There was a red-sand planet torn by war, alien ships ripping holes in the sky, the rise of some sort of cult and the launch of generation ships bearing the first Declared to their new home. There was the long journey, the ships lost along the way, there was planetfall. There, in a grim and prominent scene, was the assassination of S’Task by Vriha T’Rehu, painted in dark tones like a warning. Gaius recognized all the stories T’Vana and Verelan had taught him - he recognized them, stories that he knew and had memorized, and now saw them being told by others.

He looked further along the painted panels. There, bleeding white-hot paint into images of centuries past, was an exploding star, followed by another exodus of city-ships, the story beginning and ending with exile.  
He drew closer to the last painting. One of the great ships was shown close to destruction, desperately launching its escape pods in all directions. As if in a trance, he reached out and touched one of the painted pods, and a shiver ran down his spine.

Mirok suddenly jumped as voices came from behind them, and he yanked his brother away from the mural and behind a nearby stack of crates.

“...Federation shipment arrived earlier this afternoon, so far everything seems to check out, and their scientists have already begun analyzing the situation in the fields.” A tall, gray-haired man in a simple gray tunic and pants was walking alongside an elegant elderly woman dressed all in black with a sword strapped to her back. Both Romulan. The man’s face was lined with worry, the woman’s calm and impassive.  
“They also say they have brought us two refugee children, twin boys, whom they rescued from a dangerous situation on a frontier station. I’ve been in touch with a crewmember of theirs, and we believe we’ve found a blood relative here in the colony…”

Mirok made as if to rush forward and shout “That’s us, here we are!”  
But Gaius grabbed his sleeve and held him back. Not yet. Best listen first. Best understand.

\--Transporter Room--

Will stands on the transporter pad waiting to be beamed down, he reads the brief as he does.

Eventually the ensign takes their finger out and beams him down to the planet.

\--Vashti--

The first thing Wills eyes fall on is the browning and withered leaves of agricultural crops. He walks up to one and runs a thumb over one of the wrinkled leaves. He tuts and breathes out a heavy sigh. By the looks of it this wasn't a new problem but the farmers had continued to try to replant the vegetation over and over again.

He kneels and touches the soil, lifting up a fistful and letting the dusty mud slip from his fingers, grinding small clumps as he does.

"Feck me" he mumbles to himself. His head lifts as he looks to find people.

Will, after walking for a while towards the buildings from the dying field, is faced with the blocked off windows of houses. He raises an eyebrow and suppresses a shiver of discomfort, the place looked more like an abandoned western film set than a place where people were actively trying to live.

Will stands still at the corner of the street, looking lost and rather confused. He turns to look back at the field he had come from, his hand scratching at his chin. He drops it to his side limply.

He didn't notice the woman walking up to his right until, mid way through another turn, he has to dip quickly away to avoid hitting her with his arms.

"Fer Jesu-! I'm sorry there" he apologises, taken completely off guard.

She studied him with her gray eyes. "Lost in thought?" She asked. Starfleet uniform, he must be part of the relief effort.

Remembering her manners she held her palms out "Jolan'tru."

He nods slowly in response to her greeting, he places a hand over his heart, "I'm sorry fer that, yeh're right I'm a wee bit preoccupied." Mind still on the dying land.

It takes him a moment to realise that that isn't how to speak to new people, he straightens himself properly, "Doctor William O’Shannon, grand tah meet yeh." He says warmly.

"Are you a Terran?" She said plainly.

She folded her hands politely and waited for the answer.

He chuckles lightly, "aye, I am." He says unabashed, despite the strange question. He raises an eyebrow, "is that alright with yeh?" He asks lightly .

Her face softens. "I have no animosity towards Terrans." She stated, looking at his uniform. "Why are you on the outskirts?"

He smiles wide at her words, relieved. "I'm a botanist, ma'am. Yer fields... fer lack ah a better phrase they're awful." His eyes scan back to where the fields were, "this sort ah crop degradation is perplexing" he comments.

She appreciated his candor. "Yes, they are." she stated. "They are not supposed to be like this. That is why assistance is needed." she looked out to the vegetation, a frown developing on her aged face.

Will nods shortly, "if yeh don't mind me asking... this problem, how has it progressed? Surely it wasn't a sudden thing..." His eyebrows are pulled together over his glasses, clear concern written in his voice.

"Of course yeh don't have tah answer if it's an issue for yeh..." he adds on realising he's burdening a civilian.

"It is no more of a burden then before." She assured. "We didn't notice it at first, we assumed it was the alien flora being introduced to the environment."

She looked at him. "Then they started dying off before they were ready for harvesting." She stated.

A humming noise comes from Will as he takes in the information, he raises his hand to his chin in thought.

"Aside from us... have yeh received aid from anyone else?" He asks, eyes conveying his apologies.

"No." Simple as that.

Will nods, "thank yeh fer yer time, I'm sorry tah have asked yeh such things. If yeh don't mind, I think I'm goan have another look at the field" he says softly to the older woman.

\--Vashti night--  
  
It has been hours, and night is beginning to fall, and T'Vana is still roaming the streets of the Romulan colony looking for the twins. Vashti's climate was deceptive- as arid as it was, it did get cold at night. T'Vana is starting to feel freezing again, and is determined to find the twins before it gets worse.

The passers-by populating the streets seem to have changed too. While they regarded T'Vana with suspicion, they now look at her with outward hostility. T'Vana notes that she hasn't seen a child in the past hour and 18 minutes, and the families that occasionally crossed her path seem to have disappeared entirely, replaced exclusively by teenagers and young adults. She turns down an alley, and sees two Romulan men silhouetted against the flickering streetlamp at the other end. Thinking nothing of it, T'Vana strides towards them in the same determined fashion she always does, but when she gets closer, one of the men extends his arm until he is touching the opposite wall of the narrow alleyway.

"You are blocking my way, sir" T'Vana states, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, am I? Oh, I'm sorry, miss Vulcan" the man retorts in a mocking way as his companion chuckles.

"This is our alleyway. You got to pay a toll to get through" the other one adds, spitting on the ground before closing in.

"That concept is illogical. This is a public space, it does not belong to you" T'Vana says, her voice growing colder by the second as she focuses more of her effort on remaining calm.

"It doesn't belong to Starfleet dogs like you, that's for sure" the man retorts angrily. His companion punctuates the statement by spitting on the ground.

T'Vana represses the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I am not with Starfleet. I am a civilian. And I have more important things to do than argue with you" she states as she ducks to bypass the arm blocking her way. The man promptly lowers his arm and shoves T'Vana against the wall.

T'Vana freezes for a moment, more at the surprise than anything else, and before she knows it, the man is tugging at the necklace she is wearing. The chain snaps quickly, and the rubinites glisten in the man's hand for a moment before he tosses it to his companion.

"Hand over those Federation credits, Vulcan" the man holding her up scowls before reaching for the pockets of her robes.  
  
It is only then that T'Vana manages to snap out of her shock and control her outrage enough to react. She quickly remembers what she was taught in PE at school, a basic defense technique that every Vulcan knows: the nerve pinch. Certainly these two must not know how to perform it, or they would have knocked her out by now to rob her at ease. In a few seconds, T'Vana has reached out, and gripped the man firmly by the shoulder.

"What the...?" he mutters before he falls at T'Vana's feet, unconscious but safe.

"Julius? ... Julius, man, get up..." the other man calls, looking at T'Vana, his eyes wild. "What did you do to him?"

"Would you like to experience it also?" T'Vana snaps at him, and with that, the second man turns and pelts down the alleyway, still clutching the necklace, but leaving Julius lying face-first on the cold stone pavement.

T'Vana has been walking this entire time, when she hears two familiar voices off a nearby street. She quickens her pace, turns the corner, and sees the two scrawny teenagers calmly strolling down the desertes road in the dark, like nothing was wrong. She calls out to them as she breaks into a run to catch up.

"Shit, it's T'Vana!" Mirok exclaims.

"Didn't you tell her we were gone?" Gaius asks in alarm. The reprimand was going to be legendary...

However, when the Vulcan catches up to them, she does not berate them. Instead, she just wraps her arms about them, holding them so tight it hurts. She does not even say anything.

"T'Vana...?" Mirok mutters.

"It is so fortunate that you are unharmed" the vulcan whispers. "We are returning to the ship immediately."

The three of them walk hurriedly through the streets back to the meeting point to beam back to the ship.

"Didn't you read the note?" Gaius asks his twin, almost upset they had worried T'Vana so much.

"What note...?" Mirok replies.

\--T’Vana’s Room--

After leaving the twins at their quarters and asking them to pack for tomorrow and get an early night, T'Vana strides right back to the transporter room. It is the engineer manning the controls that gets the telling-off of the century, and not the twins. T'Vana keeps a particularly straight face as he insults him, his logic, his professionalism, his ability to discarn forged document, and his morals for good measure. Once she is done, she strides back to her own quarters, the tension of the day finally catching up with her.

T'Vana arrives to her room to find it empty. Sslith is still helping with the relief efforts, she thinks as she showers and changes. That is more important than being here at present, she reminds herself sternly. She checks for bruises in the bathroom mirror: there are none on her stomach, but the necklace chain seemed to have made a mark on her skin when it was pulled. Nothing the dermal replicator couldn't solve, though. T'Vana audibly sighs when she finally crawls into bed. She quickly finds herself running her hands on the fluff of Sslith's pelt blanket. She stops for a moment, and gets out of bed to fetch the stuffed toy sehlat that Alceste had given her from the shelf where it currently sits. T'Vana flops back into bed and buries her face in the soft toy as she falls asleep. It is logical to look for comfort when one requires it.

\--Vashti Night--

Evening. Sister Saeihr makes her way to the governor's headquarters to examine the shipments that have apparently arrived from Starfleet.

She doesn't have anything in particular she needs to inspect. No checklist, no compliance report. She just wants to take a look. Listen to her intuition. Make sure everything is honest.

The crates are stacked neatly, the emblem of the Federation discreetly etched into the sides. 

There's someone else in here. Here in the darkened warehouse.

Sindari checked off the list of supplies that were sent down, everything was here. They had did it. She felt a second flood of relief wash over her. 

It was sort lived though. She heard the footsteps nearing, turning towards the door and put on her nicest smile. 

"Jolan'tru." she greeted.

Saeihr looks curiously at the other woman - a Romulan, in Starfleet?

She folds her hands together, then turns her palms upward. "Jolan'tru. You are here with the Starfleet mission." It's not a question.

Sindari nodded, keeping her face as netural as she could. "Everything is here." She confirmed. "I will need space to began distributing the medical supplies." 

Sindari stepped out from behind the crates and handed the woman the checklist.

Saeihr looks her up and down curiously. Strange sight, but she's seen stranger. "Thank you, and I believe Governor Havran is working to set up a distribution network as soon as possible. I will be assisting him, and will do what I can to speed the process. I am Sister Saeihr." Plain-spoken and calm.

Then her eyes suddenly fall on the traditional dagger the other woman has strapped to her utility belt. Mnaeha-style, out in the open. And that crest - it couldn't be - 

"Do you know what House that symbol on your honor blade represents?" Saeihr asks carefully.

Sindari raises her eyebrow confused. "Yes, House s'Mrian." She answered.

Saeihr takes a long breath. Well, she's the right age, most likely. The same proud, almost haughty bearing.  
She takes a careful step closer and looks intently at her, then to the side, then again fixates on her face. 

"I suppose I'm not surprised Tafvan didn't last, but you look nothing like Melir," she shrugs. "You made it off-world, then? Did the others?"  
There is a hint of excitement, almost hopefulness in Saeihr's voice, and she curses herself inwardly for it.

Sindari takes an instinctive step back. "I am not sure who you are talking about, sister." She said. 

Who was this woman? She stared, going over every piece of the womans ensemble, looking for a sign of identity.

"Melir t'Mrian!" hisses Saeihr. "You carry her blade, or a skilled forgery thereof - and she was the last remaining to carry the name!" Even as she spoke, it sounded improbable, and Saeihr scolded herself silently. "But either you are my sister's-daughter, or my sister was even more a shameless mercenary than I thought, and sold her honor blade to the highest bidder." 

Let no one say that Qowat Milat don't get to the point quickly. Especially when writers are tired.

Well....that was interesting. Sindari rested her hand on the blade protectively. "It isn't mine." She said, the stories were true, there was no filter when it came to the sisters.

Saeihr deflates. "Ah, I should have known. That spineless susse-thrai."

"Desperate times." Sindari said, she had no idea what the woman was referring too. "I am sure there was a reason." she said softly.

A little-known side-effect of the Way of Absolute Candor is that the Sisters will dump their whole backstory on absolutely anyone in the vicinity. SO enjoy the deus ex machina.

Saeihr sniffs. "Senator t'Mrian never knew a "desperate time" in her life, except the one she blamed me for and spun to her own advantage."

Well....that was easier then she thought it was going to be. A senator? "Well, you know how senators can be." She commented. "Devious little things when power is concerned."

"That's putting it mildly." Saeihr sat down on a crate and looked at the unknown woman like she were an old friend, zero fucks given, it's storytime. "Let me tell you a tale about the old days, child. The old days so many of our people want to bring back. Once upon a time in the city of Mnaeha, there was a young woman named Saeihr t'Mrian. She believed in the old-fashioned virtues, stood up for honor and mnhei'sahe, and when she saw her planet's leaders spinning out of control, the government collapsing into madness and paranoia, and the Praetorian Guard mutating from an elite security team to a brigade of jackbooted thugs who existed only to terrorize ordinary citizens into silence...she decided to fight back. And she did, for several years. Only for her own sister, the regional proconsul Melir, to turn her over to the authorities herself and have her name erased from every page of history or records that ever existed, in order to advance her own career."

Sindari was grateful for the shadows that obscured most of her face. Seems like e'lev had quiet the history to her blood. "Change often brings chaos on both sides." she stated. 

She was torn, on one hand she would like to keep this conversation to herself like she would usually do. But on the other hand Verelan was alone, decommissioned, and had throw herself at a Cardassian with no regard for her own welfare. Having someone of the same house would bring her some sense of purpose.

Her hand fell on the dagger again as she mulled over the decision. "Sister," she started. "Any chance you have seen my mate?"

Saeihr snaps out of her reverie. "I may have seen him, or her, but I would not have known it."

"She is short, dark hair, grey eyes, tends to say the wrong thing at the wrong time." Sindari rattled off. "Possibly waxing poetry to anyone that would listen?"

Saeihr paused for just a moment. That sounded familiar. But - "If she is from your vessel, I have not seen her."  
Sindari nodded and headed to the exit. "If you see her before I do, please tell her I have her blade."

And with that Sindari headed out towards the beam out coordinates.

The wheels turned in Saeihr's head for a moment. 

Then realization struck.

"WAIT!" she cried out after Sindari. But she had already beamed away.


	2. Day Two

\--Labs--

Lodzhal rubs his tired eyes and turns off his microscope. He spend the night in his lab, using the samples they brought from the planet surface for tests that turned out negative.

He takes a few dry fruit from the bowl he replicated in the middle of the night. He still has a few hours before checking on the petri dish. Enough time to run a dna test on the seeds.

The door open as Keyla walks in with two mugs. She hands the one with tea to Lodzhal. "Morning Lo! How about a break?"

"Thank you Keyla," he takes a sip of the warm tea. "I am fine. Vulcans can stay awake for days before experience any issue."

"And what about food?" she looks sternly at him over her coffee.

Lodzhal shows the half eaten bowl of fruits. "I will be fine. But will you be reassured if I promise to take a day off once we are done here?"

Keyla nods and swallow her drink. "You do what you want. But I need a break, so let me tell you what Ashwin did..."

\--Zambinn’s Room--

Zambinn opened her mouth to yawn, her jaw dipping down further than what was humanly possibly. She stretched out her arms and legs until hands and legs were reaching across opposite ends of the bed. She lazily got up and got dressed. There was work to be done.

\--Cafeteria--

Zambinn headed to the cafeteria and started making breakfast for herself. Lucky Glif wasn’t in today and she was able to create her French toast with blueberry syrup without interference. Zam goes to an open table and begin to chow down.

After a hearty breakfast Zambinn grabs a box of scones she made the day before and heads to the transporter room to continue the relief efforts.

\--Bridge--

Kait taps his claws rhythmically against his comms panel. The bridge crew allow it until he adds a rumbling hum and random scatting to it.

"Lieutenant Kirragh, why don't you go down and see if anyone needs help on the planet?" Ensign Peacocks voice calls from behind him, barely concealed irritation there.

Kait turns to look at her, eyes widened, "that is a fantastic idea... alas I still have two hours of shift left." He replies, excitement deflating slightly with the realisation.

"No no, please, go ahead" Vennek says from the captains chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Given the order Kait keeps communications open for whoever takes over for him and bounds out of the room.

\--Transporter room--

Kait bounces on the balls of his feet on the transmat. An ear flicks a couple of times while he waits.

He beams down just as he's about to strike up a conversation with the person at the control panel

\--Vashti--

The moment he's beamed onto solid ground Kait is aware of his surroundings. There's quietness in the air cut through with the occasional conversation from residents and starfleet officers alike.

Eavesdropping isn't part of his lexicon and it shows in his ears turning to listen in to snippets. His tail stands to attention as his eye adjusts to the light change and roams over the houses. Terran style rows of them looking out of place against the planets back drop.

Someone beams behind him and promptly walks into him, "Watch it!" They tone rudely.

He gives them a disinterested look and slinks off to explore the area properly.

The streets of Vashti are busy this time of day. There is a hustle and bustle of people going to shops and eating lunch in outdoor venues. The voices are hushed, kept low for private conversations but many speak this carrying the sounds of chatter throughout the city. Some people bicker, some kids play games, a few surly looking men stand in alley ways looking out.

Everywhere the Caitain goes eyes follow him. Yet all keep to themselves and give him a wide birth.

Kait is aware of the stares but not the fact that people were avoiding him until he attempts to greet an elderly gentleman.

The old man looks up at him with wide eyes and shuffles past. Perhaps it was a language barrier?

He runs a hand through his hair and watches the man retreating with a forlorn look.

It's in this that he spots a small child standing alone. He tilts his head and slowly approaches them.

"Hello, are you lost?" He asks softly staying a respectable distance away.

The little Bajoran girl stands quietly. She can’t be more than six years of age. Dark hair pulled back into a pony tail and showing off her traditional earring. She holds her hands in front of her protectively and shuffled back when the big cat man speaks to her. Little unshed tears at the corners of her eyes. She says something unintelligible and looks around with fear and confusion at the Romulans.

Slowly Kait lowers himself down to her eye level and gives her a close mouthed smile, not wanting to scare her more.

He speaks gently and motions towards his uniform, "it's OK, I'm here to help. Are you alone?" He asks once again, voice light and friendly.

The little girl sniffs as the translator does it’s work. She eyes the symbol of his uniform. She recognizes it from some older pictures from her home. “Fleet?” She asks simply. Then she answers “I’m alone. I can’t find my mom.”(edited)

He is instantly relieved that she responded to him but doesn't let it show... much, his tail rises happily. "Yes, I'm from Starfleet, my name is Kait." He introduces himself slowly so the girl doesn't get spooked. "Would you like me to help you find your parent?"

The little girl rubs an arm across her face before nodding. The fluffy tail of the man catching her attention. She hesitates but then asks “what animal are you?”

His ears flick down momentarily in confusion before he realises what she means, "I'm a Caitian, young one" he says softly, he gets to his feet and peers down at her with another muted but genuine smile. "Shall we retrace your steps? Where did you see your parent last?" He asks, offering her a hand to take but not expecting her to actually do so as he is a stranger.

The little girl looks to the left and then to the right. She can only remember walking past the vendor selling clothes on racks in the street, having ducked behind them when she felt scared. She points to the place and instantly takes the Caitian’s hand.

He looks over at the vendor and sniffs the air lightly. His attention goes back to her and he says with enthusiasm, "onwards to adventure, little one!"

The two take off towards the clothing stall where the merchant immediately drops the item he is holding and looks, with confusion, between the Caitian man and the Bajoran child.

"Can I help you?" He says warily, eyes slitting on the officer.

Kait, brightly, indicates towards the small girl, "we are attempting to find her mother, you remember her yes?" He asks with an optimistic air.

The vendor gives the small girl a once over and tries to place her face. He remembers a woman and child coming by earlier who only browsed instead of buying. "She went towards the food markets" he says brusquely.

The little girl gives a giggle as she’s pulled along towards adventure. When they arrive she looks between the Romulan and the Caitain. The Vendor seemed to be scared of him. And since she was scared of the vendor that made Kait all the more endearing. She reached up and tugged at the edge of his shirt. “Mommy was gonna buy saffa fruit.” She tells him, looking up at his fluffy face and hanging the desire to touch his ears, not that she could reach them.

"Oh, is that so?" He asks her, "looks like our quest has taken a turn! Let's be off to the market" he continues on with his knightly character as the two walk away from the clothing stall.

When they get to the market the smells of fresh produce that had been delivered to the people wafted through the air. He squeezes her hand reassuringly as he spots the stall selling saffa fruit.

There's plenty of people around, her mother could be any of few Bajoran women he can see. "Can you see your parent?" He asks her.

The little girl looks at the women . Their backs to her she eyes their clothes more than anything. Varying shades of oranges and reds “mommy was wearing her blue dress today.” She tells the fluffy man.

One of the women, older with greying hair turns to see the odd sight of the Bajoran child with the... cat? She moves over “hey you, what are you doing with her?” She demands. Suddenly all the women at the vending stand turn eyes to Kait.

The little girl squeezes his hand instinctively.

He looks down at her and gives her a placating smile before turning his attention to the older woman, "I am helping this little girl find her parent. Have you seen a Bajoran woman with a blue dress anywhere?" He asks, tone friendly and open.

The woman look from the Caitain to the girl and then spoke on hurried Bajoran. Fast enough and with enough of a filet change to throw off the translator.

The little girl responded and then smiled. Satisfied with whatever answer she’d been given the older woman turned back to Kait. “I haven’t but kids tend to know the wayn home. The road, the eastern pass, connects our colony to this one. Get her there and I’m sure someone will know her.” She suggests then goes back to the stall.

The little girl watches the woman move away and then tugs in Kati’s uniform again. “She’s mean but you’re nice” she says with certainty.

His ears twitch as she speaks a language he is unfamiliar with. Soon enough she changes her tone to him, he takes in the information with a quick blink.

The small girls words take him by surprise, "thank you, young one, you are nice too" he responds warmly. The two take the route that the woman had told them about.

They are halfway towards the colony when a woman dressed in blue rushes up to them, immediately envolping the girl in her arms. Kait let's go of her hand and steps back to watch.

The woman speaks in a hurried tone to her daughter, smoothing down her hair and cupping her small face. Kait doesn't know what she is saying but from the furtive glances she gives to him, he can infer that the woman had made the same mistake everyone else had done so far.

The little girl clearly corrects her mother and the woman stands to look at Kait, a touch of fear still in her eyes, "thank you, I was worried I would not see her again." She says plainly.

Kait tilts his head to the side and gives her a slow measured blink, radiating calmness, "you are welcome, I am glad she is now safe. Goodbye, young one" he says giving a wave to the little girl.

He turns to leave and gets a few strides away before small arms grip his leg and almost knock him off balance, "thank you Mr Kait!" The little girl says before running back to her mother.

Kait hides his grin and continues his journey towards the beam back point.

\--Vashti Clinic --

At the end of the Vashti streets, tucked away in a little corner is a run down building of haphazard design. A unlike the housing the windows facing out at ent boards up and the front door is left wide open. The human design having been properly used for the ease of patients. It looks unassuming, neither complete neglected nor brimming with life. It’s grey and drab. If it weren’t for the symbol painted on the window one wouldn’t be able to tell what it was; a clinic.

Inn materializesin front of the clinic, with a small group of ensigns to help carry all the supplies in. Picking up a large crate of medications, he ipens the clinic door. it was small, and not very well taken care of. several patients were sat in the supposed waiting room, waiting to see the doctor. at a desk, there was a younger looking romulan woman, looking bored.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" he calls to her.

The woman jolts back at the sudden appearance of... starfleet. Her face sets stern and she eyes the lizard man with curiosity and suspicion. “Name and contacts” she demands first.

The patients look around in confusion as the Starfleet ensigns and Inn enter. A few of them are just curious, others are clearly displeased.

"O-oh, of course, Dr. V'las Selon Inn, lieutenant aboard the USS Bartholomew." he recites, setting down the crate to get out his paperwork. he crosses the room and hands it to her.

Most the Romulans in the clinic has never seen a Saurian before. Most of them stare at Inn pointedly.

The receptionist, Wyso (her common name) takes the PADD and double checks what’s in the system. They’d been expecting the shipment. She nods before moving over to inspect it and nurse appears from the back. He halts in his place and looks at the Starfleet crew. “Who’s this? Why are they in the clinic? Dr. Tol isn’t going to be happy about this.” He barks.

Wyso rolls her eyes “calm down Neit, they’re approved.” She starts going through the supplies to make sure everything is there.

Neit goes to Inn “And why exactly is starfleet helping us out anyway?” He demands of the kindly looking lizard.

The patients feel bold enough to voice their concerns now. "Yeah, what is this?" "How can we trust the medicine they're bringing? It might be tampered with!" a man with a large wound in his arm shouts. "Who even is that? They just went in and skipped the queue!" Another woman asks in Romulan.

Inn is taken aback, and he looks around nervously. "I, i mean, im not that high on starfleets chain so i couldn't tell you exactly why? but, um, on behalf of the medical corps, i can assure you we are only looking to help."

Neit crosses his arms in uncertainty but Wyso is much more rational than the rest. “Well we are almost out of supplies so unless you all want to go home and bandage yourselves up I suggest we accept their help.” She reasons.

At that moment, a young Romulan man bursts into the clinic, takes a look around, and points his finger directly at Inn, the first officer he sees. He yells something in Romulan that the translator does not pick up, and the waiting patients react quickly, their gasps and yells overlapping to the point where they cannot be understood.

Inn looks around, confused and fighting off panic. "im sorry i, i dont understand?" he tries to say, his words drowned out by the yelling of the patients.

The man repeats himself, and this time the translator picks it up. "Starfleet dog! One of your kind attacked me last night! This isn't your town, get out!" he yells angrily.

"How could they attack him?" a woman gasps in surprise

"They hurt us and then take over our clinic! It's some kind of scam!" The other man with the injured arm adds.

Wyso sighs heavily. “ so the elements have granted me one of thosr days huh?” She gets up from her counting and goes over to the patient. She looks him up and down. The tell tale signs of his ‘profession’ apparent in his dress, stance, demeanor and speech. “And what exactly were you doing when attacked?” She pulled out her PADD and stylist to make a note “I need that for the records.” Neit turns his head trying to get a good look at the doctors tail, he’d never seen one up close.

"I was just with my buddy in the street when this crazy Vulcan bitch sneaked up on us from out of nowhere! And she- she did Elements know what to me, and next thing I know, I wake up like an hour ago in the middle of the street with the worst headache of my life!" the man explains way more loud than necessary.

Wyso turns to Inn “any idea who he’s talking about?” She asks the starfleet officer.

"not at all, i-im sorry." he shakes his head. he knew several vulcan women aboard the ship, but not well, and he highly doubts any vulcan would anyway, it was against both surak and the fleet.

Neit shoves a PADD into the man’s hand. “Fill out this form and the doctor will see you just like everyone else.” He gestured to the other waiting patients.

Wyso turned to Inn and shrugged “is it anything like this where you work?” She asks.

"Like hell you do!" the man grumbles. "What the fuck did she do to me?!" he demands of Inn, before grumbling as Neit gives him a PADD and he slinks away to complete the form.

The patients grow restless yet again, "they came here to attack us!" "The Federation folk at the settlement all want us off of Vashti!" "it's all a lie, they want to get rid of us" they all whisper urgently to each other

"Not,,,, exactly?" he tells her. the ensigns stand in the corner akwardly, now having taken in all the supplies. "You can go, i thank you for your help." he calls to them over the upset romulans. the ensigns couldnt scramble out fast enough.

Wyso jots some notes down on her PADD and hands it to Inn “you’ll need to sign off here for the delivery.” She tells him.

Then she leans over and whispers to Neit. “Where is Doctor Tol? He should have been here forty minutes ago.”

Neit sighs and leans in to her, though he’s sure the starfleet guy can hear. “You know him, probably hung over again. They’re just going to have to wait.”

The man with the injured arm lets out an annoyed grunt. The rest of the patients nod in commiseration, and a few sigh tiredly while glaring at the ensigns as they leave.

Inn signs off, but pauses when he hears neit. he looks around at the romulans in need of care. he knows exactly what he should do. he turns two the other medical professionals, and says, "I know the patients are rather upset with my presence, but i would be happy to help with their care, if you would like."

Wyso balks at the offer and Neit sneers. “One moment” Wyso says and garbs Neit by the arm. She pulls him over and the two have a hurried conversation. They almost argue but in the end, well, it’s not like they have a choice.

Neit comes back and asks pointedly “do you even understand Romulan biology?”

"I do indeed." he smiles, trying to calm him. he had studied it once he learned of Sindari and Verelan.

Wyso and Neit eye each other with suspicion until the injured man let's out another grunt of discomfort. "Fine" Neit says at last, "we need all the help we can get" she adds before retuning to her paperwork.

"If you see anything you don't know how to deal with, you tell me. Take over room 6-R, it's over there" Wyso says, pointing down the opposite corridor he came from. "Next!" he shouts, and a feverish-looking woman, looking very pale and sick, shoots up from her chair and follows him back to a room.

Inn goes back to the room, checking out the space before taking a patient. it was quite barren, with an out of date biobed. he checks the computer, but doesn't have access, but he expected as much. he can make do with this. goes back to the waiting room and calls "Next."

The man with the injured arm gets up from the chair and follows Inn into the room, clutching his arm the entire way there, putting pressure there to stop the bleeding.

He takes out his padd to write down notes to give to Wyso later. "Good afternoon, sir. Do you have any allergies to medications i should know about?" he asks, pulling out a tricorder to check the wound to make sure its not infected.

"No, not that I know of" the man grunts gruffily as he feels the cold sensation of the tricorder whirring over his skin.

"Excellent, would you like a dose of pain medication?" he jots down the tricorders readings. The wound was infected, which meant he couldnt seal the skin just yet.

The Romulan blinks at Inn in disbelief for a bit. "Of course I do, what does it look like?" he growls, more out of frustration and discomfort than hostility. "But the clinic is out of them, Neit told me when I showed up"

Inn nods, and turns around to riffle through his medpack, not wanting to use up the clinics resources when he was his own. he takes out a hypospary and loads it. "Well, it is good you have supplies now, i would hate for anyone to receive inadequate care." he presses the hypo to his neck and administers it. "What is your name?" he asks, mostly to make conversation.

The man takes a deep breath as his pain is relieved. "That's good" he sighs. "My name is Aelius"

"Its very nice to meet you, Mr. Aelius." he smiles, and takes out anti-biotic salve and healing band. "Your cut is infected, which means i cant seal the skin with a dermal regenerator. so instead im going to wash the cut, use this ointment on it and bandage it up. the band is self cleaning, but i would recommend coming back in about 4-5 days. by then, the skin should be regrown." he makes sure to give every detail, to put him at ease.

Aelius listens carefully to the instructions and nods along. "Thank you. It's much better now the pain is not so bad. How long till the painkillers wear off?" he asks cautiously

"A couple of hours, but i can prescribe you enough for your recovery." he holds out his hand for aelius to give him his arm.

Aelius takes Inn's arm. "That's if the pharmacy even has it" he sighs darkly. "Still, this is much better... thank you, doctor" he says sincerely.

"Of course, it is my pleasure." he grins. he begins cleaning the cut, wiping away the dark green blood. "what is your job?" he asks curiously.

"I'm a farmer" Aelius says. "I got a small field in the outskirts. Guess you can assume how that's been going lately" he sighs.

"Indeed." he shakes his head sadly. "i am hopeful our scientists can discover the cause, we are working as hard as possible to find it." he throws the antiseptic wipes away, and applies the salve and bandaging.

"I hope so" Aelius replies. "Mind you, I won't blame you if you can't. The whole planet can't figure it out, apparently" he sulks. "Do you know how that's progressing?"

"We have taken samples of the soil and seeds to test, which are currently underway. i am unsure if we have any definite results as of now, but we should soon if we dont." he writes out a prescription and instructions for him, and the rest of his treatment notes for the clinic. "Okay, youre all good to go, sir."he grins kindly.

Aelius thanks Inn again and exits the room, nodding curtly.

\--Vashti--

K'tsek has been working on the support effort for the past two days, distributing food to the Romulans family.

Right now, he is taking a break, sitting away from the main agitation. With the heat, he has taken off the top of his uniform and is drinking water.

"Excuse me, sir" a woman says politely, stopping beside him. She look about 40 years old in human years, thin, and is dressed in simple clothes.

"Hello ma'am," K'tsek stands up, towering over the woman. "How can I help?"

"I wanted to thank you" she says curtly. "I was at the Qowat Milat convent when the nuns were passing the food out. They got it from Starfleet, apparently"

K'tsek scratches his crooked nose. "Ah, there's no need to thank me. I'm just doing my job. And I don't remember passing food to any nuns, so it is probably not me you have to thank anyway!" He laughs loudly.

The woman looks at K'tsek up and down. "But you are Starfleet, right? Why would you be here if you weren't?"

K'tsek nods. "Yes, yes, I'm starfleet."

"Good. Good" the woman nods curtly. "Are you going to work on the crops too?"

"Nah, that's not my department. I'm a doctor, you see? Plants are not my thing."

"Ah, alright" the woman nods. "That's good. So medical supplies are being brought over too right?"

\--Labs--

The timer on the soil sample incubation goes off, sending alerts to both Lodzhal and Nihvas's padds. Whatever bacteria exists in the samples has had the chance to gorge itself on sugar and reproduce. It's ready to be analyzed!

Lodzhal goes to whenever the sample were incubating, waiting for his colleagues to arrive.

Will turns up holding a tray of hot drinks for everyone. He passes a tea to Lodzhal and holds a coffee in his own hand.

"How're they doing?" He asks, nodding towards the samples.

The science lab has analyzed two samples to begin with, the first taken from a badly affected patch of land, the second from one that seemed to be doing better. At first glance, visually, they look like this:

Nihvas pulls the samples out of the incubator and places both under microscopes, then pulls up the 3d holographic projectors for both of them so that the whole group of scientists can look at them together.

The computer stands by to be asked for questions. It’s voice having a surprising resemblance to a Terran nurse who once served aboard the USS Enterprise. (As well as a certain Betazoid ambassador, but we don’t mention that.)

Will scratches his chin and holds his coffee close to his chest, eyebrow raised high as his eyes scan the images.

Under the microscope, the following appears:

Cells of that shape are more prominently present in the second sample than in the first.

"Computer," Nihvas asks after looking at the clear disparity between bacterial growth in both samples, "What pesticides have the agricultural fields been treated with on Vashti and for how long?"

The computer starts to rattle off various pesticides, and the history of their use on the planet. The voice monotoned and robotic. The information of which is unfortunately rather unhelpful to the case.

None of the pesticides in use have been flagged for safety or environmental issues, and the pesticides in use have not changed in the past seven years.

Lodzhal plays with his cup of tea, forgetting to drink it. "Computer, are you able to find a similar bacteria in your database?"

The computer replies. "Species identified as Azotobacter qirii, native to planet Vashti, example of convergent evolution with family Azotobacteraceae of Earth."

"Thank you," Lodzhal half whisper to the computer

"I remember reading something about that," Nihvas says in excitement. "Those cells have something to do with nitrogen fixation. What were the nitrogen levels like in the soil?"

"You're welcome," says the computer emotionlessly.

"Low," Lodzhal confirms.

"So the plants can't get nitrogen becuase these cells aren't present. But that leaves us with the problem of why they're developing like normal in soil that isn't used for agriculture." Nihvas sighs.

Lodzhal mindlessly sips his tea. He is not a bacteriologist and has very little knowledge about it.

"Computer? How long would it take for the bacteria to develop enough to cause problem." He remembers Naghta telling him the issue began the previous year.

The computer makes a slightly confused noise. "Azotobacteria play an important role in the nitrogen cycle and their presence is key to a healthy soil ecosystem."

Lodzhal frowns at the computer. "Well, obviously not here."

Nihvas rolls their eyes at the computer's unhelpful noises. "Did your team notice anything strange about the fields at all when you were on the planet, Lodzhal? I mean other than they're all dying, of course.'

Lodzhal shakes his head. "The only thing we noticed was the low nitrogen."

"And it's just the Romulan colony's fields, right? This is still just one contained event?"

Lodzhal remembers that yes, the problem is currently afflicting only the Romulan colonies, and the Federation colonies elsewhere on the planet are only dealing with normal Vashti problems like how it rains once a month if they're lucky.

Lodzhal remembers all that.

Someone in the room (probably Will because his writer was tried) decides to speak out loud “so we got low nitrogen in the soil due to nitrogen controlling bacteria that has somehow died off... hmm, what could possibly cause that?”

"Computer, does the North Station colony use any fertilizer on their crops or any type of mulch?"

The computer blandly replies with a list of standard fertilizers, the same ones as used by the Federation colonies. No data available on mulch, but someone would probably remember seeing a cheap mixture of straw and leaves protecting the top layer of soil.

Nihvas frowns and plops down into an office chair. "So maybe it's the type of crops they're growing that's leeching the nitrogen, but that doesn't make sense if the bacteria that fixes the nitrogen is depleted. So the problem probably doesn't have to do with the agricultural practices. Maybe we should start to consider what in the environment causes the bacteria to die?"

The computer chimes “affirmative” even though no one asked it a direct question.

Smartass computer.

"Computer, what is the highest temperature that azotobacteria can survive?"

However, Nihvas feels like this is the wrong question as soon as they ask. vashti's climate is relavtively stable, at least the breifing didn't say otherwise... but a hot climate shouldn't cause such a sudden catostrophic problem if the crops were fine several years in a row.

"Azotobacteria can survive at temperatures up to 65 degrees celsius, with growth favored at a temperature of 20–30°C."

"Can we use a higher setting in the microscope?"

They first look at the sample from the healthy field: nice, normal, healthy alien azotobacteria.

Then when they look at the sample from the sick field, something looks weird.

They zoom in to the absolute highest setting.

Nihvas gasps as the extreme magnification comes into focus. Dancing around the azotobacteria are little viruses, attaching themselves to the cell membrane.

"A virus!" she says in triumph.

The computer makes a worried noise after examining the data the holo-imager pulled out of the microscope. "Specimen unidentified in Federation biological database."

\--Vashti--

Zambinn has had a tiring day of delivering supplies to the people of Vashti. At first it was a bit daunting to try and find the secret doors on the side and backs of buildings but by the end of the day she’d gotten used to it and considered it a game. The people were still unhappy to see the starfleet ensign but took their supplies none the less.

As the sun started to sink the ensign reported in to Honeycomb that her hover cart was empty and she was clear of duty.

Time to explore this desolate city!

\--Corridors--

Sindari walked down the halls, sipping a large Raktajino. Medical supplies were being distributed and the local doctors were receiving the support they needed.

For once she felt like everything was going like it should.

After he was no more needed in the lab, Lodzhal went in his quarters for a shower and a change of clothes.

On his way to the cafeteria, he cross path with Sindari. "Greetings," he raises a ta'al. "How are you doing?"

"Lt." She greeted him with a smile. "I have been surprisingly well." she answered honestly.

"How is the investigation proceeding?"

"Well," Lodzhal responds. "Why is your well-being a surprise?"

"Everything on this ship has gone sideways since we started this mission." She shrugged. "I had expected this task to equally disastrous."

She sipped her drink thoughtfully. "I am glad the investigation is going smoothly."

"I will not say everything is going sideways," he tells her. "We fought back a crew of scavenger, the Supremacy three times, whatever the thing with that Romulan spy was, and we have no casualties yet," he nods like it is the proof that everything is going smoothly.

Sindari raised her eyebrows and sipped her drink. Fighting the Supremacy three times was three times too many and how many Federation vessels carried Romulan spies?

Not enough in her opinion.

"I am glad one of us thinks that." She said.

"Do you need help with anything today?" He asks her after a moment.

Sindari shrugs, "I am about to make a few house calls, but it is nothing I can't handle on my own." She motioned to the case of hypos attached to her belt.

"Speaking of which you are three weeks late for a refill." She teased.

Lodzhal blinks. "Am I? I still have some hypos left, I did not realize."

Sindari nodded. "I put in extra in case you hadn't gotten a chance to come down, I can't imagine how busy the labs get." she said.

Lodzhal nods. He didn't come because he was busy and definitely not because he has forgotten. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness. I will come by tomorrow to pick it up."

"I will let Vicki and Pox know." She said, "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a transporter chief to harass."

She drained the rest of her mug and handed it off to a very confused passing ensign who took it out of instinct.

"Enjoy your night Lt. " she called back.

Lodzhal repress a chuckle at the ensign's face.

"You too. Don't be too hard on your patients," he calls back before continuing his way

\--Vashti--

Governor Havran has had a long day. First he helped with the paperwork for intake of medical supplies and rations, then directed the implementation of the logistics plan for their distribution. The suns are setting. He is restless, troubled. He can't sit in his damn office for one more minute. He decides to go for a walk.

The streets are quiet. People are keeping their voices low, now that the Starfleet visitors are among them. Some are outright suspicious, others merely cautious by nature, but the Romulans have always been a people wary of outsiders. Their species' first-ever encounter with Aliens had been a near-annihilation, an attempted conquering. Something like that leaves a mark in a civilization's memory.

But as he strolls through the streets, he catches sight of an elegant, long-haired man in a Starfleet uniform, and walks over to say hello. To make a point of welcoming him.

Alceste offers greetings and a smile to the people he passes, most of whom don't respond, and those who do don't respond kindly. Havran catches his eye. "Jolan tru," he begins.

Havran raises his eyebrows in surprise as the Human officer addresses him in Romulan. "Jolan'tru," he replies.

"I am Governor Havran," he introduces himself. "I apologize that i have not yet had the time to make a formal introduction to your crew, time is short and i have much to do. But it is an honor to have you here."

He nods. "I understand, and thank you. I'm Head Counselor Tarik. I'd like to discuss how Starfleet could ease the tensions between Romulan and Federation colonists," he explains.

Havran nods ruefully. "My thanks, Counselor. It is not easy. My people are suspicious by nature, and yours perhaps by tradition." It's not an accusation - more a recognition that these people have been enemies for almost three centuries.

He pauses to frown indistinctly in acknowledgment. "If possible, I'd also like to include Zebulon Sladek and a Romulan civilian aboard the Bartholomew, Verelan t'Mrian, in the proceedings."

Havran looks sharply at Alceste. "You have a Romulan civilian on board your ship?

His tone is one of disbelief, not suspicion exactly, but this strikes him as odd.

"Yes, she was recently decommissioned from her service as a liaison of the Romulan Free State."

Havran nods in recognition. "Ah, Setal's program. I take it that's....not going well," he ventures.

"I'm not aware of many details. But I don't suppose so," he admits more quietly. "That being said, her presence would be invaluable."

"I suppose she does have a certain insight into Federation customs by now that most of us lack," sighs Havran. "You may bring whichever officers you believe can help, of course."

" _Khlinae arhem_. I would be glad to provide any assistance you require of me or the officers under my command."

"You speak Rihan well," says Havran, in that way that says I am dying of curiosity but too proud to ask. "Sometimes even I am startled at how much our galaxy is changing. If only it were not usually a direct result of us finding ourselves helpless and on our knees. But if we must beg to survive, then we will beg today, we will live, and we will stand up tomorrow." Almost to himself.

He nods and partially answers the unasked question with, "I've learned as much as I've been able. The position you're in is very vulnerable and very brave."

Havran chuckles sadly. "I'm far from brave, young man."

"I wouldn't say that. It's difficult to ask for help, even in conditions like these."

Havran opens his hands in the Romulan equivalent of a shrug. "When there is only one option available, taking it suddenly becomes much easier."

"You are the ship's Counselor," he says as if something has suddenly come to mind. "Have you spoken with the two refugee boys I understand were traveling with you?"

He smiles slightly. "I have. I've identified some reasons for concern, but they seem to be emotionally developing relatively normally."

Havran's dad energy kicks in. "Concern?"

"I'm afraid I can't disclose any specifics, but I don't perceive a threat of serious and imminent harm to themselves or others," he reassures.

"Hm. All right." Havran grumbles. "Well, the good news, I suppose, is that they won't have to stay here. Their aunt, who we discovered via DNA testing, is about to move to Bajor under their new refugee acceptance program. The Bajorans are a very family-oriented people, I'm sure they'll allow the twins to go too."

His eyes widen somewhat, but he agrees, "I'm very glad. I'm sure they will."

\--The Restaurant--

Verelan beamed down a few minutes ago and is just sort of walking aimlessly. It's evening, the air is turning cool.

The settlement reminds her of Virinat, in a way. Dusty, small, full of people who wish they could forget one big thing.

But it's comforting, in a way, to be around her own people again. To hear their own voices in her ears, and not the ever so slightly off synthesized voices of the universal translator.

She gets a snack from a street vendor, who nearly throws something at her head upon hearing her speak High Rihan - almost as if he'd been dealing with that a lot lately - and turns down a randomly-selected street.

There's an odd shape in the distance - like a warbird half-buried in the ground. She decides to go investigate.

It's a building, she realizes as she gets closer. Strung up with strings of lights and painted in vibrant colors. Even closer, and she realizes - Elements be thanked. It's a pub.

Hesitantly, she pushes open the door of the ramshackle, technicolor pub and sits down at the worryingly empty bar.

...the whole place is pretty empty. Has she made a fool of herself by walking in while it's closed?

Dhael sits up from her spot on the floor, bowls of paint surrounding her and the blank spot on the metallic floor.

"Jolan'tru." She called out. "You missed dinner and the ale isn't horrid today."

She studies the woman carefully before adding. "I haven't see you before."

"One non-horrid ale then, please," she says, trying not to laugh. This must be who painted everything.

"I'm called Verelan," she says cautiously.

She groans and stands up, she really needed to stop sitting on her knees for so long.

Stepping behind the bar she grabbed the nearest bottle and shook it. "Well, Verelan," She pulled out a glass and wiped it down before pouring the drink into it. "What section are you from?"

She leaned herself against the bar and began idly played with a rag.

"I'm, uh."

She wasn't Starfleet. She wasn't an official liaison anymore. It was ridiculous to say she was from Virinat. Even more so to say she was from Mnaeha.

"I've only just arrived, I'm new here," she says noncommittally, and takes a sip of ale. Urgh. True, not horrid, but a weird aftertaste, almost chemical.

Her eyes kept flickering to the brilliant-colored folk art covering absolutely every visible surface. Charming, if a bit gaudy....wasn't that the Rateg style?

Dhael visibly winced. "Take it from someone that lives here, get back on whatever ship you have and leave." She said leaning in conspiratorially. "In case you hadn't noticed this place is a death trap." She motioned to the entrance vaguely.

She picked up another glass and poured herself a drink.

"I don't think I'll be staying long," she admitted. She raised her glass of ale towards the Vashti woman and said "Cheers" in that very fancy High Rihan way that her writer is too tired to remember how to spell.

"I like your paintings," she ventured, trying to change the subject from the inevitable non-interrogation of who she was and what she was doing here. She had already gotten the sense that the arrival of the Starfleet do-gooders wasn't exactly something most of these people were about to throw a party for.

A little voice was trying to tell Verelan something, in the back of her conscious awareness.

Dhael raised her glass with a smirk. "To you getting off this rock." She threw her drink back and shuddered before pouring herself another glass.

"Thank you. I think it livens the place up, better then that dull tritanium." She stomps the floor punctuating the word. "Plus no one can miss it even with all the dust." She smiled at the other woman.

"Are you an artist too?"

Verelan nearly laughs aloud. "No, I'm a scientist. Well, trained as one. Been working in communications recently. But I've always liked the arts. Made me a bit of a weirdo at the science academy."

She keeps glancing back at the woman, wondering why she looks so familiar.

Dhael seemed to look her over again impressed. "Would not have pinned you as one, you look more like a gardener." Then she quickly corrected. "But not a gardener from here. They all look like they have given up."

Then she lowered her voice and leaned in playfully. "Have you picked up any weird transmissions lately?"

Verelan blushes. She took that gardener thing as a compliment. She likes gardens.

"Weird transmissions - where to start, I once listened in on an entire honor-struggle on a Klingon freighter whose comm systems were accidentally broadcasting their internal systems....externally. Then my lab partner decided I made it up and started inventing a story about overhearing a plot to overthrow the Andorian government. For a few days people were starting to believe him, someone even suggested we should turn the ship around and alert the Andorian high command..."

Whoops.

Dhael laughed. "What kind of ship do you have?" she drained her glass again and watched Verelan. "I have never seen an Andorian, are they really that blue in person or do enhance it in the photos?" She asked quickly.

Verelan looks pointedly at the extremely blue color of the ale and raises an eyebrow. "They're blue."

She's also nearly finished her glass, and whatever is in it that gives it that odd aftertaste also makes it a bit stronger. So she lets her guard down. "I've actually been on that Starfleet ship that just landed. Free State parked me there on some sort of bogus diplomatic mission." She frowns into her glass. "Then they fired me."

Dhael look taken aback momentarily. "Not the one that has been dropping off supplies?" And Sindari, she thought.

She topped off Verelans glass, the woman clearly was upset by her recent position loss. "Don't tell me you are trying to settle down here? Seriously don't try." she scoffed. "That sounds like a pain though."

"The, um. Yes, that one. The Bartholomew." Then she shakes her head. "And no, I don't know where I'll be going, or if I'll be staying on board, but....I'm not really.....thinking about staying down here." She's trying to not be rude even though the other woman clearly hates this place anyway.

"What can I call you, if you don't mind?"

(The old-fashioned elision of "what can I call you," "I am called X" comes from the traditional Rihan reverence for the power of names. Some schools of thought held that one should not even dare ask for something as personal and mystical as someone's Name, and leave the door open for whatever alias or nickname the other preferred.)

(These days, it makes a person sound either very rural or very religious.)

Dhael gasped and smiled quickly. "Well, that is rude of me. I am called Dhael." She held up her glass in a salute and drained it.

She shifted slightly her smile faded slightly. "What is it like on the Bartholomew?" she asked softly.

"Pleased to meet you, Dhael." A sincere smile.

"The Bartholomew is...." Well. How to describe the Bartholomew? "Raucous. I knew Terrans and other Federation types were extremely open about everything, but it's one thing to know something theoretically and something else entirely to find yourself in the middle of it." She chuckles. "I had culture shock for months. We also appear to be cursed," she says matter-of-factly, probably joking but who can really tell with her. "We've attracted the attention of an unknown galactic empire, been boarded by the Tal Shiar at least once, had a saboteur on board for weeks on end and got caught up in the last dying power struggles of the remains of the Orion Syndicate." Her head spun just recounting it all.

"But they're good people," she says finally, quietly. "It's not the Federation we all heard about growing up, you know? I mean - I'm sure the stories were based in truth, and I've only seen the one ship and a few incompetent admirals. But they're kind people, curious, with a sense of adventure and exploration. They're almost like..." she takes another swig for poetic inspiration. "Children, right at that age when they're starting to understand how the world works, but it hasn't gone rotten on the vine for them yet."

Dhael listened wide-eyed, elements that sounded insane. How the hell did they function? Then it hit her, boarded by the Tal Shiar..... at least once. Her breath hitched.

"What do you mean at least once?" she tried to joke but it was clear she was uncomfortable.

Swallowing hard she smiled and attempted to change the topic. "Sounds like they have a little bit of everything going on there."

"Well, the once that we know about." Again, is this a deadpan joke? One cannot tell.

"Would you believe," she changes the subject, sensing Dhael's discomfort, "they actually have a dedicated holographic simulation room? Set aside for recreation?"

No such thing exists on Romulan ships. They're not big on holographic entertainment anyway, always a little too spooked that the AI characters will come to life.

Dhael poured herself another drink. "I have heard stories of that! I can't believe they allow it." She exclaimed grateful for the change in conversation. "Only time I have been into a holo suit is when that Ferengi stopped by and tried to sell di'ranov one."

She drank her glass quickly.

"They're sort of fantastic, once you get over the skin-crawling fear of those....not-actually-people walking around and interacting with you," Verelan laughs.

"Your father lives here too?" A tone of slight relief, it's never a small thing to hear that someone still has living relatives these days.

She nods and her eyes shoot to the hall that led to the interior. "Yes, this used to be his ship." she fidgeted with her glass, rotating it slowly. "Now he just likes cooking, thankfully."

"I'll have to come back here for lunch tomorrow then," she says lightly. "We should still be here for a few days - our scientists are working on figuring out what's wrong with the crops..."

"He was in the Galae?" she realizes, his ship would imply he was its commander, too.

Dhael rolled her eyes and scowled. "We were all in the Galae at one point or another," she muttered and pressed her lips together before continuing. "but yes he was."

"I did my time too," Verelan agreed. "Never was meant to be one of the type that made a career of it. I served on the _Terix_ for a while though," she attempted to brag, naming the flagship. The brag immediately evaporated: "...for a couple of weeks," she muttered into her ale.

Dhael giggled. "I am sure it was just as glamorous as they told you it would be." she teased. "I flat out refused at first." She did some bragging of her own. "Then when they did drag me in I made sure to make their lives as miserable as possible."

"Not that it did much." she deadpanned.

Verelan laughs openly. "All for the greater glory of the Empire, I'm sure!"

She nodded very seriously before breaking out into a smile. "And now look at that great vast Empire. Flew to close to the sun and struck down." She sighed and smirked. "Can't say it feels good to be a roasted _hlai'hwy._ "

Verelan hesitates.

Looks around, at the paintings....at the woman who looked almost familiar....

".....I know that feeling," she mutters.

"Rather intimately."

Dhael looked at her with a mixture of confusing and concern. "Sorry that was an awful joke. Drinks can be on the house."

She returned the bottle to the shelf and rinsed off her glass.

Well, she wasn't about to protest about the drinks, she didn't have any money on her anyway. "No, no, it was funny," she laughed a bit nervously.(edited)

Right. So. The painting style is definitely from Rateg province. The _hlai'hwy_ thing must be some local folk proverb.

Right?

She wondered if she had given the woman too much to drink, she was on the smaller side and whatever _di'ranov_ had done to the ale made it stronger then usual.

She pulled a out a fresh glass and filled it with water. "Drink, so you don't pass out under the counter." She teased lightly.

Dhael scoffed and crossed her arms. "I hear enough 'poetry' from enough people in here. It is mostly about dust where dust shouldn't be." She grinned though. "Riveting stuff, you should come back when Rai and his boys ride in from the fields. Hear it first hand."

"Dust where dust shouldn't - oh, oh no." Verelan is in stitches. "Who's Rai, then?"

Dhael huffed. "The idiot that keeps scuffing my floors." She stated flatly, tossing the rag in the sink. "He also happens to do odd jobs he just doesn't do them well."

"I'm sure if you actually need anything fixed around here, I can convince someone from my ship to come in and do it properly," Verelan insists.

"That's why we're here, after all." She leans back in her chair, sets her water down, picks up her ale again, and smirks. "Compassionate relief mission."

Dhael sighs. "I will keep it in mind."

She chewed her lip and stared at no point in particular. "I hope you guys figure out what is going on here." she said, there was a certain amount of defeat in her voice.

Verelan's immediate instinct is to tell her that everything is fine, they have excellent scientists and state of the art equipment, but even before she opens her mouth she can hear how hollow the words are.

"Me too," she says finally.

There is a heavy silence that follows. Dhael opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to decided what to say to break the quiet.

"Thanks I guess." she said. "For the supplies at lest."

"It's the least we can do," she says softly. "I wish I could know for sure we could fix it."

"Here - " she says impulsively, typing a communications code (aka phone number) into her padd and sliding it across the bar to Dhael. "If you need anything, if we can help you and your father get things set up better, if you need anything fixed - just call me, all right?"

Dhael looked at the code suspiciously before copying it to her own PADD. The woman was strangely talkative and open compared to most, it was a welcome change.

She sent a message right away _\- Dhael-_

"Thank you." She said sincerely. "I wish I could offer you something in return but I am afraid all I have is another drink or a lunch."

"Then I'll see you for lunch," Verelan says sincerely.

She slipped unsteadily off her bar stool - No, Verelan, do not faceplant in front of the charming new friend - and smiled hazily back at Dhael. "It was so nice to meet you."

She waved at her tipsy new friend. "Get back to your ship in one piece Scientist Verelan." she called after her.

She sighed and hopped over the bar making her way back to the spot on the floor. Fvadt there was dust again.

\--Vashti--

Lyle, who’s been busy hauling and passing out supplies, is taking a break from the center of activity, a little overwhelmed by… everything, really... when their ears pick up the sound of a kid crying, and another young voice yelling “-this is why Mama said no more tree climbing! Now we’re both going to get in trouble!”

They’re already up and moving towards the voices before the little rant has ended, turning a corner to find the source: a young teenage girl, standing with her hands on her hips and glaring up into the branches of a tall, gnarled tree, where Lyle can see a clearly terrified kid – maybe six or so? – clinging to a branch high off the ground.

The girl whirls around at the sound of approaching footsteps and gives Lyle a once-over, eyes narrowing at the sight of their Starfleet uniform. “What do you want?” she snarls.

“Um,” Lyle says, still not quite used to the hostility everyone here seems to carry towards the Federation. While very understandable, it still stings a little. “Sorry, I heard voices- is he stuck? I can help.” They point at the kid in the tree.

“And why should I trust you, Starfleet?” She spits the last word out like a curse.

“I’m… really good at climbing?” Lyle blurts out. Most of their brain was occupied with analyzing the best way to get up and back down from where the kid is.

“You get one scratch on my little brother…” she threatens, glaring with all the intimidation her preteen self can pull off.

“I got it,” Lyle says, already scrambling up the lower branches of the tree. It’s an easy climb, but also clear to see how the distance to the ground might be overwhelming for a kid like the one currently crying his little lungs out. Hell, they remember plenty of times when they got stuck in a tree before they figured out how to properly climb back down. And here I thought it was my monkey ancestry, they think, silently amused, but it turns out it was the feline side all along. That, or kids are just universally dumbasses.

When they reach a spot just under where the kid is, well-braced in a fork in the tree, they whistle to get his attention since his eyes are shut to block out the view of the far-off ground. “Hey. Need some help there?”

The little boy has nearly the same reaction to the Starfleet uniform as his sister, except rather than anger, it’s more fear as he shrieks and tries to scramble backwards. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Lyle exclaims, grabbing a tiny ankle before he can topple off the branch. “Easy, easy there! It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you, I just wanna help you get down to your sister. Okay?”

The kid is unimpressed by their pleas. Making sure that they’re balanced on the branch again, Lyle carefully lets go of their ankle. “Don’t move, okay?” Bracing a bit better with their legs, they quickly strip off the uniform jacket, tying it around their waist. “There, scary uniform’s gone, now will you PLEASE let me give you a ride back down.”

Not entirely calmed, but at least placated for the moment, the boy scoots in Lyle’s direction. They carefully maneuver around to present their back. “Here, climb on.” After a moment with no response, they twist their head around. “Seriously, kid, do you wanna get down from this tree or not? Shuttle to Vashti’s leaving, dude, if you don’t hop on I’m gonna leave you up here.” That finally seems to make up the kid’s mind and a second later Lyle has a dense little bundle of Romulan kid on their back. “Okay, hang on tight, I need my hands for this,” they instruct, and start to navigate the path back down, much more cautiously than the climb up.

The girl keeps glaring daggers at them even when they reach the ground and set down the kid. “Okay,” Lyle says awkwardly, “I’ll… just… be going, then?”

“You do that,” the girl says venomously, shuffling her brother behind her.

“T’ank you,” the boy says, waving from behind his sister as Lyle heads off. Lyle turns back to give a little smile and wave in return.

\--

Now that the supplies have been distributed, Lyle’s free to look around, explore, perhaps find any other ways to help. They’ve taken some pictures of the sad, withered crops in case they need to bring their parents in on the project – they figure that they’ll see how the science department is doing later in the evening, although Lyle expects them to have the issue well in hand.

Walking around the fields, they eventually come across a big, old-fashioned irrigation pump system, rusted around the rivets, and with curious clanking noises coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the primary motor. “Uh, hello?” they call cautiously. “Someone there?”

Their question is answered by a litany of swears in Rihan and a final, decisive bang. The motor makes an awful grinding noise for a few seconds before turning back off. A yell of “Fvadt!” echoes from the inside, before a woman in grime-caked coveralls slides out from underneath, making a face as she brushes dirt and dust out of her short-cropped, unruly hair.

She gives Lyle an appraising once-over, raising pointed eyebrows. “Fantastic, a Starfleet brat,” she says. Despite the ‘brat’ comment, she sounds relieved, which is a nice change from the varying suspicious to hostile reception the crew has gotten so far. “You know anything about motors, kid?” She gestures to the broken pump.

“Yeah, I’m an engineer,” Lyle says. “Sounds pretty jammed. Any idea what’s causing it so far?” They take a moment to be grateful for their foresight in beaming down with their tool belt.

“Well, it’s either corrosion, something’s stuck in there, or a part’s loose.” She snorts. “Really narrows it down, huh.” Lyle snickers in response. “Honestly, if you could just climb in here and hold a light up, that would help a ton,” she adds. “We’re small, I think we can both fit in if you don’t mind getting cozy with a big scary Romulan.” Her tone is clearly teasing.

“Oh, terrified,” Lyle deadpans. “Shaking in my boots.” They’re saying this as they pull a hyperspanner and a penlight from their tool belt and shimmy into the crawlspace under the motor, followed by the woman’s surprised, delighted laughter before she follows them in.

Lyle clicks on the light, flashing it around the inside of the pump. “Got it narrowed down any?” they ask. She slides in next to them, bumping shoulders – fortunately, she was right about them both fitting, as she’s only a few inches taller and a bit skinnier than Lyle.

“I think it’s somewhere in the gearshift mechanism – I’m pretty sure this motor came out of a tractor. Third-hand salvage heap piece of garbage,” she replies, frustrated.

“Yeah, now that you mention it, this looks a lot like the motor on an antique John Deere one of my neighbors had,” Lyle agrees, looking at the motor with renewed interest. “Damn, does this thing still run on gasoline?”

“Yyyup,” she says. “There’s a bunch of combustion engines scattered around here, and a little oil well and refinery on the far side of town to power ‘em. They’re disgusting, stinking pieces of trash, but as long as they run, you take what you can get.”

“Yeah, until they don’t run,” Lyle comments. “I’m Lyle, by the way.”

“Call me Tori. You’re from Earth, I assume? I’m pretty sure most Vulcans would, like, wither away in disgust at owning a gas engine.” She eels around the edge of the engine to get a better angle on the gearbox, while Lyle dutifully angles the light towards where she’s working.

“Yeah-” They cut off as the light catches a familiar logo. “Holy shit, it is a Deere. Jesus. Sorry y’all got stuck with our ancient junk.”

“Ehh, it’s the Fed, can’t expect much,” she says, muffled around the wrench clamped in her mouth as she pulls the gearbox apart. “No offense.”

“None taken, we kinda suck sometimes,” Lyle replies lightly. Tori laughs again. “Hah- bring that light over here, kid – that’s better, thanks – wow, and here I thought all you Starfleet types would be singing the propaganda praises of the Federation.”

“I’d say we try to help people, mostly,” Lyle says. “Sure doesn’t mean we always succeed. Or occasionally just make things worse. I mean, just look at the situation here, obviously we fucked up somewhere along the line. My ship seems like one of the good ones so far, though, even if it’s a bit chaotic.”

“Yeah, guess you’re here now, that counts for something, at least,” she agrees resignedly, passing a large gear down to Lyle with a brief “hold this.” Part removed, she tries to spin something inside the gearbox, only to wince away when it makes the nasty grinding sound again. “Damn it.” She looks down at Lyle. “Pass me up the hex kit, would ya?” They bring the light down to where Tori’s left her toolbox, grab the little set of hex wrenches, and hand it back up. “Thanks, kid.” There’s a pause as she adjusts something. “That reminds me, your ship was the ones who found those kids, aren’t you?”

“Wha- the twins? Yeah, guess word spreads fast.”

Tori snorts. “Not that fast. My wife’s the one who turned up as their aunt. Didn’t surprise her too much, her brother was a disaster. I think she’s meeting with some of your people later to get the paperwork all sorted out.”

Lyle sighs, relieved. “Oh, really? I don’t know your wife, obviously, but- I’ll feel better knowing they’re with you, and not just some random stranger. Especially Mirok. He’s a little engineering whiz, I’ve been having him help me out with some of the easy maintenance stuff. Realigning conduits and replacing circuits and stuff. He’s really good at it, too.”

“Aw, that’s adorable,” Tori coos. “I’m no good with really little kids, but I’ve always kind of wanted an apprentice.” She snickers. “Good thing too, otherwise I was gonna see if I could poach you from Starfleet. I feel like you’d make a good Romulan.”

Lyle is silent for a long moment.

“Shit, I’m sorry, kid, I think that might have come off wrong. I didn’t wanna disrespect your heritage or anything,” Tori says, as the silence stretches towards awkwardness.

Lyle sniffs. “No, no, it’s just- thank you.”

There’s another silence, only interrupted by Tori clinking away at something in the gearbox again, but this time tinged with nearly palpable confusion. “Aren’t you part Vulcan?”

Another sniff. “Dunno.”

“...You don’t know?” she incredulously parrots back.

“My bio-dad, uh, ‘hit it and quit it,’” Lyle says a bit wetly, trying to make a joke of it.

“Yeah, but… you seem like you want to know. You never did a gene test?” she asks, gently.

“Came back inconclusive.”

“...What the fuck kind of shoddy-ass genetic lab… kid, you should get those fancy Starfleet labs on your ship to rerun it for you, I’m no scientist but a gene test shouldn’t turn up ‘inconclusive.’”

Lyle sighs. “My mom had them re-run it to make sure. ‘50% Vulcanoid, race inconclusive.’”

There’s a clinking from the gearbox, followed by a crow of “Aha! Found the little bastard.” She turns back to Lyle, grinning. “Gear fell out. Anyways- maybe your dad was also mixed? Only between Vulcan and Romulan. Genetic lab might not have considered it, there aren’t a lot of us.”

Lyle blinks. “If you’re right my mom’s gonna flip her shit that she didn’t think of it sooner. She’s a fucking biologist.” They pause, processing. “Hold on, us??”

“Yeah, I’m half and half. Like I said, it’s pretty rare. Here, pass the big gear back.” Lyle hands it up, and there’s another clink as she slots it into place, before giving it a spin. There’s no grinding noise this time. “I think that did it!” she cheers. “C’mon, let’s climb out and see if we can start this sucker.”

Tori slithers her way back down from the top of the engine block while Lyle crawls back out into the daylight. Looking down, they snort to see that their uniform is now nearly as dirty as Tori’s was when they first met. Tori clearly comes to the same conclusion as she climbs out after them and laughs at their futile attempt at brushing the dirt off. “There, now you look like a real Vashti native,” she jokes, walking over to the controls. “Alright, you piece of shit, work,” she threatens before turning the ignition.

Sure enough, the engine splutters to life with a much healthier rumble. “WOOOOO!” Tori yells. Lyle chimes in with an enthusiastic “HELL YEAH!”

Tori turns off the engine and ruffles Lyle’s hair before they can react to fend her off. “Hey!” they complain. She just laughs at them. “Thanks for the help, kid. At least once the crops get fixed, we’ll have water for them. Any news on how you guys are doing with that?”

“Not sure – different department. I’m sure they’re making good progress, though,” Lyle says. “We’ll get it figured out.”

“Well, once you’ve got the labs free, have them run that gene test for you,” she says. “Actually – if you’re still here, come tell me how it turns out. Just ask around for Tori, everyone knows me. In fact – if you wanna do me a favor, bring the sequence data with you. I’ve got an ongoing bet with my wife.”

Lyle squints suspiciously. “What’s the bet about?”

“Who’s brother’s bastard kid – or kids – turns up first. Considering mine’s at least as much of a disaster as hers was, we were sure it would happen at some point. Obviously she’s got the twins on her side now – so if it turns out you’re Vellar’s sprog, I can at least count it as a tie.”

She walks off, waving, while Lyle is still standing there boggling after her while their brain attempts to reboot.

\--Vashti Night--

Approximately five and half hours later Zambinn finds herself on the floor of a very questionable basement home. A group of twenty something Romulans linger about trying to get a good look of the game taking place.

The half-Caitain peeks at her cards before tossing the betting sticks into the center. “Call” she says with a stoic expression.

The group turns to the Romulan man she’s facing down. His face absolutely impassive and expressionless. They almost look Vulcan. He doesn’t even bother taking a second look at his cards instead he takes a hand and shoved his pile of sticks forward. There’s a slight gasp and a bead of sweat drops down Zambinn’s forehead.

The Romulan grins and overturns his cards. Three images in total. One is a tree with an axe buried into it. One a face that was half covered by a veil and the other a moon hovering over the ocean.

The group of Romulans looks on in amusement and victory. Zambinn considered her options. She could back down now, cut her loses. She didn’t have to over turn her cards but if she didn’t then, well, she’d never actually understand how the hell this game was played!

Zambinn turned her cards over…

\--

Verelan sneaks back to the beam-out site under cover of darkness.......blushing ever so slightly.

At that very moment, Sister Saeihr Lheollan is leaving the government building after a long and tiring meeting with the Governor. Her duties as _shalankha_ i essentially entail listening to him ramble about all his thoughts, plans, worries, insecurities and political concerns, and giving him the single most no-bullshit, tough-love dump truck of feedback possible. So she has a headache, and needs a drink, and can't wait to go to bed.

Just then, she sees another person walking across the town square. Just the one. A youngish woman, petite, apparently a bit drunk from the way she's walking.

The light of the street lamps hits her face for just long enough - Saeihr's breath catches in her throat and her heart starts pounding in her abdomen.

The spitting image of Melir.

\--

The faces of the Romulans went from a smirking with victory to ghostly pale on an instant. The starfleet ensign gauged them all before looking down at the floor. Three cards; something akin to a rabbit running through a field, a boat fighting the waves in a storm and finally just some door. ..

“What?” Zambinn asked when the silence continued. She looked at her opponent for some sort of understanding.

He just shook his head. Brave enough to admit defeat and smart enough not to mess with someone the elements had granted a winning hand to, he pushed the pot of betting sticks to the young woman.

Zambinn fist pumped in the air and hollered with victory. The group of Romulans said nothing. Eventually one of them moved over and turned on a small transceiver radio and tuned it to find the local music broadcast. A mix of every style, old and modern, from their parents days, from their great grandparents day even, etc. the small group started to mill about. Ale was brought out and soon a sight chatter could be heard as people began to socialize.

Zambinn was ignored while she collected her sticks and placed them in her pocket. She looked about the room and suddenly felt very ostracized. No one speaking standard and a few turning their backs to the outsider. She sighed. She’d been hoping to make a good impression but she’d obviously failed.

The boy who’d lost the game was still sitting in front of her. He gave a slight grin and dark eyes held the Caitian’s. He stood up and offered her his hand. And when she took it Zambinn was pulled to her feet and they started to dance. Okay, maybe she’d not failed.

Zambinn spent her night on Vashti. Enjoying the house party with several questionable youths, old music, and good ale.


	3. Day Three

\--Vashti--

Zambinn wakes up on the sofa. The Romulan man she’d danced with last night beside her and arm around her waist. He slept softly and she considered him thoughtfully. He was nice. How was it a member of a species so known for hostility could like her and yet certain humans (Lenore) didn’t? She leaned over and gave him a kiss to the cheek before slipping out of his hold and heading out. She had more provisions to distribute and she desperately needed a shower.

\--Med-bay--

Sindari submitted the last of the lab samples into the cyrochamber and sat down at her desk. She wouldn't be here long, there was still many things she needed to do on the surface, but a combination of not being able to sleep and the impending doom of reports made her show up to her shift extra early.

Lyle jogs in, looking a bit breathless, having hauled ass after asking the computer where Sindari was since they suspected she might not stay for long. "Sindari!" they call. "You can do genetic analysis in here, right?"

Sindari looked up surprised at the Ensigns dramatic entrance. "Of course, what for?" she asked.

"Uh, me," Lyle says. "Someone suggested yesterday that my biological dad might have been a mix of Romulan and Vulcan, and the original genetic lab might have missed it since it's not really common."

That certain could be the case. "I will need to take another blood sample." She stated standing back up. Digging for the correct hypo she asked. "Have you been exposed to gamma radiation recently?"

"Nope, don't think so," Lyle says, taking a seat and rolling up a uniform sleeve.

Sindari pressed the hypo against their arm and waited for it to fill.

"It will take a bit for the results to come in." She informed softly. A mix of three completely different races, the universe had an interesting way of working itself out, she mused.

"Alright," Lyle said. "You'll let me know when they do, right?"

She nodded and pulled down their sleeve. "I will alert you the second they come in." She said.

Popping the blood sample out she labeled it and placed it in the cryochamber for now, with an priority label.

"Thanks, Sindari," they say. "I really appreciate it. I'm... actually kind of excited, haha." They bounce up and down on their toes a couple of times, before their padd dings with a notification. They pull it out and break into a grin. "Oh my god Taavi's back!! See you later," they call, already rushing back out the door.

Sindari watched them leave just as fast as they had come in.

Who was Taavi?

\--Vashti--

Alceste walks through the streets under the bright heat of the afternoon sun. "Hevam!" a voice yells, stern and cold.

He shifts his focus from his PADD to the Romulan in front of him and responds in his usual level tone, but without a smile, "Ie?" The man's tense expression doesn't falter, but he stops. "You're with Starfleet," he states almost as a question.

"Ie," Alceste repeats non-confrontationally. The Romulan steps closer until he's forced near the wall behind him. "You believe your shallow 'help' will force any of us into trusting you?"

Alceste glances at the ground in contemplation. "I'd like to believe it might earn us trust, yes."

The Romulan scowls. "It's not enough."

"I'm sorry. The crew is doing everything they can."

"Got anything valuable you'd like to hand over, then?"

"I'm afraid I don't."

The other man scans over Alceste's person critically. "Fine. Keep giving out your rations," he spits. He clenches an already tight fist and strikes Alceste across the face, hard, who doubles over with the force of the hit. Alceste feels warmth trail down from his nose, the Romulan's back still turned to the rest of the street.

Inn was making his rounds about town, greeting the friendly faces he got acquainted with yesterday, when he hears a sudden commotion, he hurrys to the noise, and stops when he sees Alceste on the ground in front of a seething romulan.

"Hey!" he yells, running forward.

The Romulan subtly pulls out a previously concealed dagger, away from Inn's line of sight, and glares at him over his shoulder. "Stay out of this."

"I will not, you are hurting my friend!" he yells, continuing to run to him. a few romulans were beginning to crowed, waiting for a fight.

Alceste rests his fingers just below his nose to stop the flow of blood when the light catches the blade. "Inn!" he shouts in warning and scrambles to his feet, eyes widened. The Romulan immediately makes a jab at him, unsuccessful as Alceste grabs and twists his wrist, exposing the knife in the sun properly.

Inn gasps and skitters to the side out of reach. "Why are you doing this?!" he asks pleadingly, as a distraction as he tried to calculate the best way to disarm him.

"He's a Starfleet human," he answers, eyes unwavering and teeth gritted through the struggle. "You're almost as bad." Alceste's full attention is focused on attempting to overpower the Romulan's vaguely superior strength.

Inn rushes forward amd attempts to sweep his legs. he succeeds making the romulan fall to the ground. a few romulans in the crowed boo, but inn ignores them in favor of picking up the dagger.

He lands with a subdued grunt and scrambles backward upon seeing Inn with his weapon. "What are you going to do? Kill me? I thought that went against your codes of conduct," he snaps mockingly. Alceste pants quietly and observes the two.

"Killing you would be against starfleet, the Hippocratic oath, and Suraks teachings. i will not kill you." he tells the romulan. "You did, however, threaten the life of my friend, for the illogical reason that he is a starfleet officer." he turns to Alceste. "do you know if there are authoritys that can take him?"

"I'm not aware of the authorities here," Alceste responds, but taps his combadge. "Tarik to security, I need an officer at my location as soon as you're able." He stares at the Romulan, who glowers back. "Rha? I know when to surrender," he scoffs and rises to his feet, otherwise unmoving.

the crowed grumbles at the anticlimactic ending, and dispersed. "Are you alright, counselor?" he asks, already going for his medkit.

Alceste sniffles and flicks his hand toward the ground, splattering blood onto the dirt. "Yes, thank you." A security officer runs up and apprehends the Romulan. He barks a "Bed aoi, hevam. Khoi-udt," at Alceste before being taken away. Alceste watches and tears prick at his eyes.

Inn watches the romulan get taken away, then ushers Alceste away from the street into a small, safe looking allyway. "Im going to clean your face now, ok?"

He follows, then blinks the tears back and nods. "All right."

he uses a antiseptic wipe to clean up the blood, and a dermal regenerator to fix any damage. "do you want a hug?" he asks softly.

He runs a thumb across his lip and his tongue across his teeth, not tasting anything metallic. He pauses. "Only if you would feel comfortable with that."

Inn nods, and pulls him in, rubbing his back comfortingly. "what exactly happened?" he whispers

He gently hugs back. "He approached me and asked about what Starfleet is doing here," he clarifies. "And then he hit me after trying to rob me."

Inn frowns, and hugs him just a bit tighter. "Im sorry that happened. are you,, alright?"

"I am. Thank you." He pulls away slowly. "Have you had lunch yet?"

"I havent, would you like to go?" he offers.

He nods and offers in return, "I can buy us some food."

"Please, i can pay." he offers back.

He smiles lightly. "How about we split the bill?"

"A logical compromise, my friend." he smiles back, and leads the way out of the alleyway.

Alceste orders two kebabs from a street vendor in overheard, stilted Rihan. The Romulan man recoils and hands them over seemingly just to dismiss him. He humbly accepts and pays for his half, allowing Inn to cover the other half, and passes one off to him. "I apologize for giving you more to do. How has your work been?"

"Oh, dont worry, you are quite all right. yesterday, i delivered supplies to their clinic, and helped care for some patients whild the doctor was away," right on cue, a mother and a little girl pass by, both waving at inn. "Take care, girls, and dont forget your medicine, miss Roreka!" the little romulan girl giggles, and yells back with a thick accent, "tank you doc'er een!"

He chuckles at the girl and wanders, staying close beside the other. "I'm very glad. Did you experience any difficulties?" he asks more seriously.

"The staff were,,, untrusting, although i do not blame them. a romulan man did come in and started making a fuss about how a vulcan officer attacked him, but i cleared that up when i checked him over, and explained what a 'vulcan neck pinch' was. turns out he was robbing the woman, and she used it in self defence. although, i do not know who this could be. Perhaps security ensign T'lie?" he bites into the kebab.

"I'm sorry to hear that. If you receive any more hostility, please don't hesitate to comm me." He takes a bite of his own food, inwardly crunching on it. "How have you been otherwise?"

"And you as well." inn looks at his kebab, and bites off the stick. "i have been good, i enjoy helping those in need, however hostile they my be. they deserve help, no matter what they think of starfleet." he says with a mouth full of stick

He smiles again. "I believe so, too. If the clinic needs an extra nurse, I would be more than willing to assist you."

"I had finished unpacking yesterday, although im sure you could stop by. i would warn you though, the doctor is very territorial." he chuckles. he suddenly stops, and scratches at his neck. "gods." he mutters.

He nods, but comes to a halt and turns, his smile fading with curiosity. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, im alright," he puts his hand in his pocket, and shakes his head. "it just about time when the first Aispaeh-lik in sauria starts, or in standard, shedding month." he sighs. "worst week in the half-year, and unfortunately my half-green blood couldnt save me from it, like a few of my siblings."

"Do you need someone to administer preventative anti-infective hypos during your hibernation?"

"I do actually- but you dont have to, of course, i wouldnt want to put that burden on you." he blushes. not to mention he can not wear clothes, although he will be under several blankets, and the human will not see anything.

"It's all right," he reassures and blushes a bit in response. "The visits would be quick and wouldn't interfere with my shifts."

Inn thinks for a moment. he didnt have a plan for what to do anyway, his sister always gave them to him before,, "very well. thank you, Alceste. i will comm you when i believe i am nearing hibernation."

He nods and gives a small smile. "Of course. I'll make arrangements for the hypos and check on you often." He tears a piece of fish from his kebab. "And I'll make sure you wake up on time so you won't miss your shift."

"I'll give you my room code, do you think you can water my plants as well?"

"If you send me the care routine, I would be happy to," he agrees. "What kinds of plants do you have?"

"Flowers, mostly, a few berry plants. I started them for, well, Toz, you know him?"

"I haven't met him properly. Where did you get seeds?"

"A few i got from my mothers on vulcan, others i ordered online." he finishes the kebab, and the rest of the stick.

He chuckles and eats the last few bites of his own, standing in place. "Well, I won't keep you any longer," he speaks softly. "Thank you again."

"Thank you as well, i enjoy our time together. Live long and prosper, Alceste." he smiles, offering a ta'al.

"You too. Have a good day." He raises one back and leaves toward a more populated area of the city square.

\--The Restaurant--

Earlier this morning, Verelan received a message from Governor Havran, who strangely enough she still hasn't met, saying that Kimara i-Ra'tleihfi wanted to meet her supposed nephews. They arranged a time and place, and beamed down.

The place, of course, was Dhael's tavern. It was almost lunchtime, after all.

The boys were strangely quiet, clearly almost as nervous as they were excited as they were curious.

They set themselves up around a table and Verelan ordered soup for everyone. They awaited Kimara's arrival in near silence.

Kimara hadn't meant to be late, but dragging Tori out of the tubes had proven to be harder then she had expected. Both of the them hurried into the open restaurant and quickly scanned the seats for the boys.

Kimara smiled when she saw them, spitting images of each other. Tori clapped her on the back and rushed them both over.

"Jolan'tru." they greeted.

"Jolan'tru," the boys chorus politely. Gaius avoids making eye contact, Mirok looks Kimara directly in the eye.

Verelan stands and offers....whatever Romulans do instead of shaking hands.

"Thank you for coming," she says gratefully, then looks in mild confusion between the two. "Er - "

Which one is Kimara?

Kimara barely heard her, she was too busy looking at the boys. Elements, they really did look like her brother. She smiled and took a seat.

Tori smiled and returned the salute. "Tori and the woman ignoring you is Kimara." She sat down next to her mate and slung her arm over the chair. "Nice to meet ya boys."

"I'm honored to meet you. It's extraordinary that we found you..." There's a tinge of regret in her voice, she's almost as attached to the twins as T'Vana is. But they need a real home, not a starship cursed with Protagonist Syndrome.

Mirok is staring in fascination at Tori...her strong hands, the indelible grease stain on the cuffs of her practical work shirt. "Are you an engineer?" he asks shyly.

Tori pats her chest triumphantly. "Sure am, one of the few here that knows what the hell I am doing." Turning her head to shout at the next table. The man sitting there snorted and flipped her off.

Kimara wringed her hands together. "Have you boys been well?" She couldn't imagine what her brother had done to abandon his own flesh. Her eyes filled with worry and she looked to Verelan for the answer.

"They grew up on a Federation space station," Verelan says carefully. "They were safe there, just uneducated...I've been teaching them to speak Rihan, though I suppose around here Menku is the more widely spoken..." (Universal translator ex machina for this scene I guess.)

Gaius, who has been looking a bit skeptical this whole time, suddenly pipes up in surprisingly good Rihan. "We were with their people, not with our people."

Verelan winces.

"Apparently, they were found near the station as infants, in an escape pod. At least that's the story."

Kimara's face saddens. "I am glad they are here now." Gaius and Mirok, an odd combination of names, usually there was thought put into naming offspring, but it seems like their were named haphazardly.

Tori sifted slightly in her seat. "I am sure they will pick up Menku quickly, they seem like tough kids." She raised her eyebrows playfully.

Kimara sighed. "I also need to let you know that we are leaving this planet soon, we got approved for the colony on Bajor." She explained. "We won't be here for much longer."

Again the boys' reactions are strikingly different. Mirok grins, and Gaius scowls.

"Bajor is part of the Federation, isn't it?" asks Mirok with palpable relief.

"We'll have to move again?" protests Gaius.

Kimara nods to them both. "Yes, on both accounts."

Tori rubs her nose in response to Mirok. "They are the ones with the weird noses."

Mirok giggles. "I like them! They're really smart."

He knows a grand total of two Bajorans, Lieutenant Vennek and Lieutenant Li. Both have always been kind to him, so as far as he's concerned, Bajor sounds good.

Gaius stares out the open window at the dusty, wilting fields of Vashti.

Tori leans foreword and excitedly chatters at the boy. "The only one I met was the man that took the application and he grabbed my ear for some reason."

Kimara watches Gaius, he must have been apprehensive about the move. "Bajor is prettier." She informs him. "And we will have easier access to the Federation if we ever need help."

"Then what did I learn to speak Rihan for?" he scowls.

There is an awkward pause.

Then things get even more awkward!

The door swings open and a tall, gray-haired Romulan man walks in.

"Governor!" exclaims a random waitress with a smile. "Sure it's a surprise to see you here! You're just in time, we've just put on a fresh pot of soup."

Verelan glances at her own soup, suddenly skeptical. Then she processes what the waitress had called the man, and jumps to her feet. "Governor Havran!"

Havran looks at the table....notices an unfamiliar Romulan woman, Kimara, Tori, twin boys....

He strides over with a smile that somehow never quite reaches his sad eyes. "You must be Verelan t'Mrian - and our mysterious twins!" he teases the boys gently.

Kimara and Tori smile in unison.

"I was just telling them of our plan to move to Bajor." Kimara explained.

Tori nodded and motioned to the empty seat. "Take a load off."

Havran accepts, and sits in the empty seat. "I just heard that your application was approved," he says carefully. "You must be very happy. It will be a shame to lose our finest engineer," he says with a wink in Tori's direction (the random man at the next table over snorts angrily into his soup), "but we'll manage somehow."

Mirok seems nonplussed, but Gaius is suddenly fascinated. "You're the Governor?" he asks.

"First among equals," corrects Havran gently. "But yes, and I do what I can. What may I call you, young man?"

"Gaius," he replies hesitantly. "I....don't have a house name."

"Neither do I," says Havran solemnly. "But you may be proud of your given name - it is the name of a great leader of our people...some might say the last great leader."

Kimara smile and nodded, leaning into Tori.

"I'm Mirok," pipes up the other boy. "Was he anyone famous too?"

Havran is taken aback by the dissonance in the two names, almost from two different worlds. He takes a moment to think. It's the name of a peasant, from the outer worlds, almost unheard of on the lamented homeworld. "There have been many good men named Mirok," he says finally, "Strong men who worked hard, often under very difficult conditions, to protect and provide for their families and communities. That too is worthy of a Name."

Gaius is all puffed up with pride at learning he's named for a great leader, and Mirok smiles shyly, mostly understanding Havran's point.

"No, I like it," Mirok decides.

"As far as we know, this is the first solid ground these boys have ever walked on," says Verelan quietly.

Havran nods solemnly. "We have our struggles. Elements know, we weren't strong enough to overcome them. But we can be proud to have tried." His use of the past tense sounds defeated.

Gaius suddenly looks scandalized. "Aren't you going to KEEP trying?" he scolds with the moral righteousness of youth.

Havran looks at the boy with a start. Blinks a few times.

"I suppose I will," he says after a long pause.

"If you like, and if your guardians agree," he glances at Verelan, Kimara and Tori, "I can show you around the colony. Even if you'll be leaving for Bajor soon, I'd like you to see what our people have been working to build here," says Havran.

Mirok looks like he'd rather eat fresh gagh. Gaius turns to the three women with pleading eyes. "Can I?"

Kimara and Tori both nod in agreement. Gaius clearly wasn't thrilled with the prospect of Bajor and maybe this will help him decide where he wanted to be.

They all finish their soup, Gaius fidgeting in his seat with curiosity. Mirok prefers to spend time with Kimara and Tori, so it's only Gaius that goes with Havran to see the town. Havran promises to have him back at the beam-out site in an hour.

\--Labs--

Once the problem with the crop failure is identified as a virus, Nihvas and a whole team of science ensigns begin to isolate the virus. If the dna or rna that the virus is comprised of can be isolated, the team can start to look for solutions.

In order to limit the spread of the virus, Nihvas decides to suggest that a limit on crop transportation be implemented for the North Station. They send the reccomendation on to the relevant contact for the colony.

Nihvas sends all of the ensigns off to go stare at microscopes and work on isolating this thing, then realizes that she's very much out of her depth. Viral cures are not her thing, so she decides to comm medical. Hopefully they can help speed up the process. So what if the patient isn't a humanoid population? Same process, right?

Inns voice come over the comms.

"hello lieutenant, what can i do for you?"

"Doctor, our team has been able to identify the crop problem on the north station as a virus attacking azotobacteria in the soil. No one over here has any experience making viral cures, can medical spare anyone right now to help us out?"

"i studied virology along with general medicine, I'll be there in just a moment."

Inn arrives a few minutes later, looking frazzled, yet happy.

Nihvas jumps out of her chair when Inn arrives - as usual, she's had too much caffeine. "Thanks for coming to help! So here's everything that we've done so far..." She shows him the images of the virus and all of the information they had recorded so far.

"I think the trickiest part of this is going to be implementing a cure that can take effect the soil, since the azotobacteria that's being attacked is part of the soil's ecosystem. Azotobacteria is imporant for nitrogen fixation, so right now the crops can't access nitrogen since their source is infected by this virus.'

Inn hums as he looks over the information. "Fascinating,, perhaps we can treat the water in the irrigation systems with the "cure", of course that would mean we would have to make stronger cures once the viris becomes immune. so like a shot."

Lieutenant Ngata, the helpful NPC who got a promotion for being so helpful, glances up from his station. "That could help, but we'd have to be sure we could wipe out all the viruses in one go, or they could just come roaring back. It's a risky move to do that alone, but shoot me the file with the genome anyway - I'll see if I can start synthesizing some sort of enzyme to interrupt its replication."

Nihvas pulls up the DNA sequence that the ensigns have successfully isolated by now from the virus samples and sends it over to Lt. Ngata's padd. "Sent."

Ngata grins, a nerd who gets to work on a new problem. "Thanks!"

"I guess we should all start looking at it, looks like it's gonna be a long night!" Nihvas looks longingly at her empty raktajino tumbler.

"Indeed, i will help with test to create the compound." he says, poping a futuristic monster energy.

"unfortunately, completely eliminating a viris would be next to impossible, there is always the possibility it will come back. holding it at bay is our best shot, and with modern sciences, it could be many years until it mutates again and renders the cure obsolete."

"So our best shot is probably an antiviral in the water source then? It should be easy enough to get the Station to agree once we figure out an enzyme that'll make this thing harder to reproduce. I'll contact the bridge about sending in the diplomats," Nihvas says.

Suddenly, a ridiculous sound effect honks from a browser tab that Ngata forgot to close. "Shit!"

He fumbles around in embarrassment to close the tab, then looks sheepishly at his labmates. "Sorry about that - fantasy sportsball. Longstanding bad habit. And I do mean bad. I'm terrible this year." He's babbling to cover his embarrassment. "My offense is pretty good, but you can't win the game without also having a solid defense...."

He trails off, wondering why he felt compelled to say that.

Nihvas raises their eyebrows at the sound, and then bursts into giggles.

Inn blinks. "It is alright, but. what is fantasy football??"

"It's just - you know, you make your own team from all the players in the league based on who you think will do well, or who's cute or whatever, and then the game looks at their real stats every week after the game and you get points and - look, it's not important," he explains.

"Just should have built a defense," he mutters.

"so it is an earth sport? i may have to research this 'fantasy football.'" he rubs his chin.

"Oh, so like a pandemic simulator! Like how you get to pick virus or bacteria and how it spreads and..." Nihvas laughs. "Well, maybe thinking about making the ultimate virus isn't conductive to stoping our real life virus."

"but, they are fascinating, and useful for preventing the spreads of certain viruses. speaking of virus, we should start our research." he says, and starts to do sciency things ya know like a scientist which he kinda is while i am not technobabble technobabble technobabble.

"So..." Nihvas says after a pause in the conversation, "I guess we need to look for a way to keep the virus from infecting more soil too."

Lyle sticks their head into the science lab, listens to the ongoing debate for a minute, and then deadpans "Beam tiny facemasks onto all the bacteria" before ducking back out.

"indeed, we need to have defense as well. question is, how, because we cant exactly immunize the ground, it is unliving."

"why dont we just get rid of the ground." he whispers so no one can hear.

Ngata suddenly looks up from his console as if he's been struck by divine inspiration. "Wait a minute....playing defense...that's it!"

He turns around in excitement. "Guys! The ground isn't alive, but the bacteria are!"

"If we were able to genetically engineer a strain of these bacteria that can use an immune response against this alien virus, they could proliferate in the soil even if our antiviral doesn't kill off every last one!"

“That’s it!!” Nihvas shouts, coming over to look at Lt. Ngata’s console over his shoulder. They see Dr. Inn standing back, looking like he is thinking about something.

"There is also a way we can go one step further, and create a bacteria that eats the virus."

Nihvas raises her eyebrows in amazement. “Woah - that’s punk! Do you think that could work here?”

"I think its very possibe it could, and if the bacteria sees it as its food source, it will likely seek it out more often."

“Let’s try it! Lt. Ngata, how’s the genome work coming? As soon as the enzymes are catalogued, we can start modifying the bacteria to seek it as a nutrient,” Nihvas says, fired up by the project. There’s an end in sight!

\--Vashti--

As the two begin walking through the dusty, bustling streets, it is Havran who does most of the talking, explaining the history of the Vashti colonies to young Gaius. Then it turned into the history of the evacuation, then the history of Romulus in general - at which point Gaius surprised Havran by taking over, and telling him the story, almost perfectly, milestone by milestone.

"Someone has been paying attention to his lessons," Havran smiled, charmed and touched. It wasn't every day you met a Romulan child who knew his history, much less cared about it.

The conversation turned to more casual gossip. Tales of Tori and her feud with the second-best engineer in town. The boy that was raised as a Qowat Milat. The Sisters themselves, and their Way of Absolute Candor. Gaius was transfixed, eyes wide, frequently interrupting and enthusing. Vashti was a shithole, sure - but it had character.

They passed by a little brick house, one wall collapsed. An abandoned wheelbarrow of bricks, an exhausted workman napping in the shade, another staring at a brick in his hand, apparently in the throes of an existential crisis - what's the point - and unable to summon the willpower to lay one more futile brick.

Gaius' eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed, but they kept walking just down the block, to the government building.

Havran apologized, but he needed to pick something up from his office, and since he wouldn't be more than five minutes and it would practically take an act of the Senate to convince security to let a strange teenage boy in to the archives (not least of which would be re-forming the Senate in the first place), could Gaius please just wait out front and he wouldn't be a moment, then they would continue their grand tour.

Of course it took Havran half a bloody hour. By the time he rushed back out of the building, he was wracked by guilt - which turned to panic when Gaius was nowhere to be seen.

Oh no, oh no, oh no - Havran raced through the streets, cursing his carelessness, acknowledging the wisdom of the Elements in never allowing him to have a son of his own -

\- and there was Gaius, barely recognizable, his posture that of a man, not a boy. Standing at the crumbled brick wall, putting the bricks in place himself, spreading the mortar inexpertly but carefully, an expression of fierce determination on his face.

Havran stood back an inconspicuous distance and watched. Havran couldn't hear what the boy was saying to the two despair-broken workmen, if anything. But eventually, seeing the repairs begin to take shape, the other two grumbled and picked their tools back up.

Well, there was nothing else to be done about it. Havran rolled up his sleeves and presented himself, hands open, before Gaius. "Why, Praetor Gaius, first among equals," he teased gently, "how may I serve you?"

The house was fixed by nightfall. Havran sent an exceedingly apologetic message to - well, everyone, assuring them that Gaius was safe, and accompanied him to the beam-out site.

Gaius held eye contact with Havran, unblinking and resolute, as the transporter beam began to dissolve him. Even once he had disappeared, that expression stayed with Havran for a long time.

He walked slowly back to his apartment. For one day, at least. Merciful Elements. He had had a son.

\--Transporter Room--

Zambinn beams back aboard the Bartholomew (try saying that five times fast!). She gives a tired, but friendly, hello to the engineer on duty and makes her way down the halls. Almost as if she has bypassed the corridors altogether she finds her way to the arboretum.

\--Arboretum--

Zambinn moves nimbly over the wooden bridge that cuts across the little stream. She follows the path through the field, firefly s dancing around her. Tonight she mostly ignores the robotic bugs aside from enjoying their light. She heads to the grove of trees near the center of the room.

The half oak, half Bol tree stands tall amid the thicket. Zambinn starts to climb. Higher and higher but never to a point she’d been afraid to come down. She finds the sturdy branch she’s sat on a million times before and gazed up to the windows which show the universe which moves beyond the glass. Stars, moons and the planet of Vashti. Zambinn yawns and her tail flops over her lap. With one leg dangling down she falls asleep in the arboretum and dreams strange playing cards and dancing.

\--Corridors--

Kait has finished his shift, had his meal and submitted menial paperwork for evaluation. (There wasn't much he could say in it asides from 'no communications')

He pads down the hallway with an inquisitive air, nose high and chest out. A smell filters through the air and he follows it as is his custom. It's not the same strange one as from the days prior but rather, new, odd, animal.

His eyes slit and he slows his body down, trailing the scent in a predatory manner.

He finds himself once again outside of the bar, his ears twitch and nose wrinkles as alcohol filters in with the smell, but it's still there and stronger than in the corridor.

\--Lounge--

In the bar Kait stalks around following the smell. Other patrons give either watch the man in his semi crouched state walk around searching under tables, or, ignore him with ease. He is unaware either way.

He ducks under a table and finds a fluffy white kitten balled up asleep. He jerks back quickly and bumps his head on the ledge, thankfully his ridiculous volume of hair stops him from being hurt. It doesn't however, stop the noise. The kitten jumps awake and stares up at him with wide eyes for a split second.

Until she starts hissing.

He holds out both hands in a 'I don't want trouble' gesture. The cat doesn't understand this and so attempts to shuffle away, fur along her spine standing on end.

Kait slowly lowers himself to sit under the table, he extends his hand to the hissing kitten. She swipes at his fingers with sharp claws but his thick skin doesn't even mark from it. He slowly blinks and averts his eyes, letting the terran cat know he wasn't a threat.

The kittens sharp noises start to simmer down but her panicked eyes watch him intently. He allows his hand to be attacked once more, before the kitten starts to sniff his fingers.

After a long time of him sitting there allowing the cat to explore him through smell he is warmed when she inches her head forward and rubs it against his fingers. He lets out a happy, low, rumbling noise and pets her gently.

\--Transporter Room--

Unable to sleep Wayn decides to beam down. He knows it might on Vashti but hey, he was promised a beer and it would be rude to turn it down.

\--The Restaurant Night--

Wayn finds the bar again and enters. He looks around for Dhael and Taev, but only after making sure Sindari isn’t here to yell at him. He makes his way up to the bar and orders an ale, hoping the Romulans took his advice.

Dhael was behind the bar idling scrolling through her PADD. The bar was dead, either because of the influx of the federation types coming in chasing off the regulars or because the ale was currently shit. She wouldn't tell.

She looked up at the betazoid and smiled. "Welcome back bartender." She can't remember if he told her his name, didn't matter. She grabbed a glass and wiped it down before pouring a shot of the ale.

"Whatever you had _di'ranov_ do made it stronger." she said.

“Well that’s good to hear.” He says with a friendly smile. Wayn takes the glass and tries the drink. At least it’s better than when it was cut with the fruit, and a lot less jarring to the tongue.

Wayn sets the glass aside and decided to double check. “Sindari isn’t around is she?”

Dhael scowled. "No, she left an hour ago."

She looked the man up and down. "You don't seem like her type." she said after a moment. "What did you do to get on her bad side?"

Wayn can’t help but chuckle. “No, I guess I’m not.” He takes another sip of the ale and avoids the direct question.

“I’m more curious about about how the two of you wound up as sisters. You don’t seem anything alike.”

Dhael looked at him confused. "When two people love each other very much usually it ends up producing offspring." She said sarcastically. "I would have thought Betazoids knew about that." she teased.

Wayn laughed and raised his glass to her “touché” and takes another sip.

He looks around the room for a moment wondering where Taev is but doesn’t press for fear of being considered ‘nosy’. He looks over the counters and tables. The decorative designs and art coloring the room. “Did you do those?” He asked with a sneaking suspicion.

She nodded. "Not much else to do, and it keeps me from looking at the ship." She traced one of the swirling leaves on the counter. "I think it brightens up the place, don't you think?"

Wayn followed her finger with his eye and nodded “it does. I think it’s the only bright spot I’ve seen since I got here. Must help you bring in some extra business.”

She shrugged. "It is either here, you eat from the stalls, you go to one of the other restaurants that serve slop, or you cook yourself." She wiggled her fingers as she listed them off.

"The stalls are only good when you get there early and the only other restaurant that is worth a damn is south." She smiled. "Plus who wants to cook when you have been in the sun all day."

Wayn tilts his head. It had been sweltering on Vashti so he couldn’t argue with her. “Do you all have a special? It’s pretty common in the federation for restaurants to be known for one or two of their dishes.”

Dhael tilted her head, mimicking his. "You get whatever di'ranov decides to make." She motioned to the screen on the wall. "I update it in the morning. Yesterday it was soup, today it was the mollusks. Tomorrow it might be soup again but who is to say."

Verelan is wandering around nearby, kinda hungry. Wonders if she should stop in to the tavern.

A little voice floats on the wind, the voice of the Elements.

Verelan walks into the tavern - and hesitates.

"Oh - hey, Wayn..." she greets him cautiously.

Wayn nods. “Then I’ll have whatever Dhael deems me worthy to eat.” He states and reaches into his pocket. “That’s is... do you take credits?”

“Hey” Wayn says with a smile and turns to Verelan “if it isn’t my favorite Romulan.” He says cheerfully.

Dhael nods and looks at Verelan. "Scientist Verelan!" She broke into a wide grin.

"I almost didn't think you could find us again."

Peace. Seek peace, Verelan. There's no point in continuing a feud.

"And i suppose it's my second-favorite Betazoid," she says back, forcing herself to smile and taking a seat at the bar, next to him but with one empty seat between them.

She giggles at Dhael. "Come on, I wasn't THAT drunk."

Dhael smiled and looked between them. "Well I am glad to see you in one piece. Ale or food?" She asked.

"Both," she says decisively.

“Second? Who beat me out?” Though in truth he didn’t expect to be on her top 100. He sips the last of his ale and rests the empty glass on the counter.

Verelan raises an eyebrow and deadpans: "I haven't met him yet."

Wayn nods and turns back to the face the area behind the bar and waits for the grub.

Dhael disappears into the back only to return a few moments later with two plates of mollusks. Setting them in front of them she then poured and refilled their drinks.

"Well you sound like your popular among Romulans."

"Oh, peace, Kisq, it was a joke," groans Verelan. "I have no interest in making you my enemy. At least, not the kind of enemy one keeps at a distance." Also completely dry and deadpan.

Wayn leans over and takes a whiff of the food. Smelled good. “Not sure ‘popular’ is the word” he smiles to her “but certainly know a few.” He try’s the food first, savoring the mollusks. Not quite as good as Sindari’s cooking but he wasn’t going to say that.

“Verelan you’ve met Dhael already?” He asks trying to keep things friendly.

"Yes, we met last night," Verelan agrees. "We drank to the health of the Empire." Okay, that one was clearly a joke.

Dhael grinned and grabbed herself a glass on Ale. These two were probably the most energetic customers she had in awhile, and it wouldn't hurt to join them in the conversation. "Do you two work together?" she asked.

Wayn smiles and takes another sip of ale. “On the Barth.” He tells her. “They have me working security right now.” He tells her and try’s to gauge Verelan. He wasn’t sure if she knew that or not.

Verelan raises an eyebrow. "...with slightly unorthodox methods, I assume.

"Although, your codes did work," she grumbles.

Dhael sipped her drink eyes watching them both with amusement.

Wayn turns to her with a grin. “If they weren’t unorthodox then they wouldn’t need my expertise to being with.” He says back.

Then Wayn considers Dhael “I think I’d rather bartend. You all mix anything or is it just ale?” He asks curiously, eyeing the area behind the counter.

Dhael blinks, "Uhhhhh... I just grab whatever they want." She chuckled.

Verelan shrugs begrudgingly at Wayn's answer. He had a point, as usual. But still...

"You scared the absolute shit out of her, and you know it," she mumbles.

Wayn gets up and head around the counter. He starts investigating the stock. It’s mostly basic stuff a few dusty bottles of federation style booze and a few various flavorings. He comes back up with ingredients and a glass and starts showing Dhael how to mix a cocktail. One part Ale to two parts creme, a shot of syrup, and twist of lime. A simple treat that balances sweet with strong.

Wayn considers Verelan as he mixes and his voice turns more sober. “I truly didn’t mean to scare her.” He states simply and passes the drink to Dhael.

Wayn gets up and head around the counter. He starts investigating the stock. It’s mostly basic stuff a few dusty bottles of federation style booze and a few various flavorings. He comes back up with ingredients and a glass and starts showing Dhael how to mix a cocktail. One part Ale to two parts creme, a shot of syrup, and twist of lime. A simple treat that balances sweet with strong.

Wayn considers Verelan as he mixes and his voice turns more sober. “I truly didn’t mean to scare her.” He states simply and passes the drink to Dhael.

"I thought you knew Romulans better than that," is Verelan's only remaining comment.

Dhael took a tentative sip. Not what she was expecting from he had used. She had no idea what they were talking about but she guessed the Betazoid was thick headed and the Scientist was friends with him??

Wayn feels a rise to argue but pushes it down. If either one of them had told him his delivery of Sindari’s Christmas present was offensive he wouldn’t have done the same thing with the ale. It’s neither here nor their. “Did she tell you we got stuck in the turbolift?” He asks.

He then starts showing Dhael how to make another drink. This more more tart and possibly more suited to the Romulan pallet.

Verelan's eyes go wide, and she can't help it - she stifles a laugh. "And you're still alive!"

Her stifled laugh is at least a relief. Wayn smiles mildly and nods “amazing isn’t it.”

Dhael froze. Why did that sound familiar? "Angry coworker?" she asked innocently.

Wayn nods “your sister.” He pushes the next drink over to Dhael to try out.

Verelan drops her ale.

Dhael whips around shocked. "Are you ok?"

Merciful. Fucking. Elements.

"I didn't know she had a - that you - "

Well, that explained the Rateg-style paintings everywhere. And the odd resemblance she couldn't put her finger on.

Wayn raises a brow and watches Verelan. He grabs a towel from behind the bar and starts cleaning up on instinct. Even if it wasn’t his bar.

"Sindari is your sister," Verelan croaks slowly.

Dhael grabbed a rag began sopping up the spill. "Unfortunately, we share flesh and blood." She said somberly.

Well this was entertaining. As Wayn rounds around the counter to clean he leans in to Dhael. “Verelan is her girlfriend.” He informs. Good now everyone is on the same page. He cleans.

"Unfortunately?"

Careful, t'Mrian. Careful -

Well, fvadt.

Dhael looked at Verelan shocked. "Well, would have never have guessed."

She grabs another glass and refills her drink. "Yes. Unfortunately." She pushed the drink over.

Verelan takes a very long, shocked drink.

Well the Betazoid didn’t need to be a Betazoid to senses the tension. He resumed his former seat and allowed Dhael to serve. He looked between both her and Verelan. Hmm, how best to diffuse the situation.

Thinking of nothing Wayn simply sipped his drink.

Dhael lets out a nervous chuckle. Elements she did not sign up for this. "Um. Sorry I guess." she scratched the back of her neck.

“Can I ask why you two don’t get along?” Wayn said, completely expecting to be told it was none of his concern.

Dhael sighed and leaned against the back of the bar. "In all truth, she hasn't been my sister for years. It is like looking at a stranger." she said.

"You have been around her. She is...." She trailed off not wanting to continue.

"... closed-off," Verelan admits without quite wanting to.

Wayn nodded to them both in understanding.

“She’s certainly unpredictable. I really thought we could move on after the Haerhe sa'kaleh.” He sips his drink. Huh, the ale certainly had him talkative tonight.

"I'm sorry the WHAT - "

Dhael nodded and tossed the rag in the sink and downed the mixed drink that Wayn had made.

Her brow furrowed in confusion she must have heard him wrong.

"HOW ARE YOU ALIVE - "

Wayn holds the glass at his lips. Well fuck.

Dhael grimaced. "I would also like to know."

"You performed the Vow of the Blade?? How do you - what - did she accept your apology?"

He pulls the glass away and turns to Verelan. “It was my right to offer and her choice to make.” He says firmly. His side momentarily aches in memory.

At the second question he shrugged “she said she did, after she revived me, but...” clearly it hadn’t mattered much.

"........you do realize revival isn't really part of the traditional ritual."

Merciful Elements, she wanted to crawl into a hole.

Wayn shrugged again and downed the rest of his ale. Probably enough for tonight.

She frowns. Drinks. Bothered. Very bothererd.

"She should have let it go, then."

"A ritual like the haerhe isn't to be taken lightly, it's - "

Dhael paled a bit. Elements, they were in over their head. She leaned in towards them. "Do you know?" she asked conspiratorially.

Wayn turns to Dhael. “Know what?” He asks. He raised a brow thinking he did but he wasn’t about to out Sindari to her family if they didn’t know she was Tal Shiar.

"A ritual like the haerhe isn't to be taken lightly, it's - "

He turns solemnly back to Verelan. “I didn’t take it lightly.” He informs her.

Verelan shakes her head numbly. "I'm not saying you're the one who did."

Dhael sighed and lowered her voice. "She is one of them." She almost mouthed the word. Hoping that Verelan would understand.

Verelan, however, simply nods. "...I know. I didn't at first. But she's saved my life at least three times."

Wayn felt himself stiffen as he looked to the woman. Was she so willing to tell people who claimed they knew her? Even someone Sindari obviously had some issues with. “Dhael, do you always give that information out to your patrons?” He said in a scolding tone.

Dhael straightened up, wide eyed. "You are the walking dead man." She looked at Verelan. "And you are treading on thin ice."

"And no I don't usually but when they come into my bar and start talking about broken rituals, I feel the need to warn them." She huffed.

Verelan's stomach twisted into a knot.

She hated that she thought Dhael might be right.

Wayn sighed and moved to stand. Giving a slight wobble as he did. “Maybe, but you also have an obligation to protect your sister even if you don’t like her. You had no reason to believe that I or Verelan were her friends. This whole thing could have been an elaborate ruse.” Wayn might regret some things of his past but he knew how important it was to not rat people out.

The Betazoid pulls away from the stool. “V, if you want to stay I’ll wait outside. I’m not letting you walk alone at night. Lots of muggers about.” If only he knew the half of it. Wayn moves towards the door to wait for her.

"No, I think....I think I'll come with you....back to the ship." She had a conversation to have.

She turned to Dhael with a pained, pleading expression. "Thank you - really - you've been kind to us. My offer stands, about fixing the bar."

Dhael scoffed at Wayn's comment.

She half smiled. "Be careful." She whispered then in her normal tone. "Thank you."

As soon as she was outside the door, Verelan sent a message to Sindari. I need to talk to you. Her lips clamped into a thin, white line as she did.

\--Vashti Night--

Wayn waits and walks silently by the Romulan woman in the warm night air of Vashti. They’re a good distance from the bar before he tries to speak. “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself you know.” Probably not the best opening, but all he can really settle on saying. Apologies hadn’t served him well lately.

"Nothing on me that anyone would want to steal," she says numbly. Her thoughts are going at warp 10.

“There are other things they can take. Peace of mind the most easy target.” He says somewhat grimly.

Wayn shoved his hands in his pockets. “You two going to have a fight now because of me?” He asked point blank.

Verelan shakes her head quickly and takes a slightly unsteady breath. "No, not because of you," she says bitterly.

"You know...while you were gone...we, uh. We split up for a while."

Wayn raises brow and turns his head. “You did?”

Verelan nods miserably. "I hadn't been entirely clear on the, uh, details of her posting on the Bartholomew, and I overreacted. The minute I had any doubt, she shut down completely and threw up her shields. It deteriorated from there. We didn't speak for weeks." She tactfully doesn't mention the time they almost had a knife fight.

Wayn nods and looks forward. Keeping his senses clear he is able to pick up on the bodies hiding in the upcoming alley. He takes Verelan and guides her across the street to avoid a jumping. “I didn’t know for sure when I met her but I had my suspicions. She blocked her emotions more than Keras and that was saying something.” He admits. “How did you two make up? If I can ask?”

"Yeah. I couldn't stand it anymore and begged her to forgive me outside a shitty bar on a space station in the middle of nowhere." She grimaced. "I had said some....really, really horrible things. I couldn't have blamed her if she threw me out the airlock. But she......gave me another chance."

She shakes her head and looks at the ground. "But I still don't.....I love her, but sometimes I don't know why. I don't understand her. I can't reach her. Some days I feel like I barely know her. But when we were separated, it felt like a limb was missing. Nothing makes any sense."

An unexpected but welcome side effect of the story of the ritual is - Verelan now trusts Wayn as much as she ever will. She, at least, considers that ritual to be one of the gravest and most serious that a Romulan - or anyone - can perform.

Wayn has a mix of thought and emotion. He has Sindari’s back, but he also has Verelan’s and the similarities between their relationship and his with Jaale can’t be ignored. The Betazoid pauses, putting his arm in front of the woman to ask her to stop.

“V...”He takes a deep breath and tries to word himself correctly. “I don’t think Sindari is going to change. She doesn’t want to and it’s not your place or mine to ask her to. If you can love her how she is,” His side aches again and there is the slightest spasm across the space. “then you’re fine. However, if you’re waiting for her to open up, to give more than she already has, to make herself understandable.” He shakes his head “that’s a losing battle.” He stares at Verelan, emotional but not telepathically open to sense her reaction.

The Romulan heart is located in the abdomen, slightly to the side. Which is to say, both people walking down that dimly-lit Vashti street feel the sharp pain of a dagger in the same place.

"You're right," she says quietly. "And I always have had a problem with seeing what I want to see, instead of what's real."

Wayn nods and lowers his arm so they can continue on towards the ship. He offers a small smile to Verelan “well if you ever need clarity, I intend on sticking around.” He offers.(edited)

Verelan smiles, weakly but sincerely. Soon they are back on the ship.

\--Sindari’s Room--

Verelan buzzes hesitantly at Sindari's door.

Sindari shut off the computer that had been running the decoding sequence and hid the data rods in the drawer.

"Come in." she called turning in her seat.

The doors open and Verelan appears, looking pale and upset.

Sindari stands up instantly. "What happened? Did you meet with the Governor?"

"Never mind the governor," she says dismissively. Sits down hard on the edge of the bed. "When exactly were you planning on telling me Wayn had made the haerhe sa'kaleh to you? And you had taken it?"

Sindari blinked. "I hadn't planned on telling anyone since it is frowned on to commit a ritualistic murder on a federation starship." She didn't like where this was going. "How did you find out?"

"I am not _Lloann'mrahel!_ " snaps Verelan, using the old term for the Federation that basically means "those ones from over there."

"And Wayn told me, we ran into each other at your sister's tavern." That one went uncommented.

"You know, I started out trying to stick up for you," she continues. "Trying to impress on him just what a terrible thing he had done by violating your living space like that. And then? I find out that he literally performed one of the single most solemn vows of trust and contrition that a living being can perform? And you still assume he's out to get you?"

Sindari frowned and held her hands behind her back. "I am starting to think I should have just left him dead." She said, her lip curled in anger. "What was he doing at that bar again?"

"He was having a drink!" Verelan nearly explodes.

"Then he can use the bar on the ship!" She snaps.

"Isha - " Verelan facepalms in despair. "What does it take, to get you to trust someone? Do you trust me? Are you capable of it? If you can't even trust someone who literally gifted you his life into your hands, according to rituals that apparently a Betazoid respects more than you do - "

"Oh please. He doesn't respect anything unless it moves one of his little plans forward." She cuts her off.

"He let you kill him. He obviously learned that ritual from Keras, I'm sure Keras didn't make up some story about it being traditional to bring the penitent back to life at the end of it. He was willing to die to prove his good faith to you, and you spat that back in his face - you spat in the face of the Elements themselves!"

Verelan looks at Sindari with tear-filled, despairing eyes. "If I don't believe you can trust, how can I trust you in return?"

Sindari face was a cloud of barely concealed rage. She was tired of this arguement, she had never done anything that would have harmed her and yet that didn't see to be enough. Why did everyone on this ship expect her to spill her guts to the first person that walked by?

"I couldn't care less about what the Elements think, they don't seem to do much anyway." She said coldly.

Another punch to the gut. Did Sindari see her as just some annoyance, another obstacle to her glorious mission of....whatever it was? Did she see her as a person? Did Sindari even know her?

This could NOT happen again.

If Verelan's voice wouldn't be heard - even if Sindari refused to listen - let the Elements speak.

She took her pikhmit cards out of her pocket and threw the deck on the floor between them, with the same gesture of resignation that she had thrown her dagger months earlier.

"Pick a card," she challenged.

Sindari looked at the cards unimpressed. She had seen Verelan going through them occasionally but always assumed it was more out of boredom than reverence for the elements.

Now they were on her floor, a mess of glided triangles. She picked up a card a tossed it over with ease.

Clear skies and a mountain reflected in a lake.

Mount Hathos. Far to the north - not far from Rateg, oddly enough - a tall mountain peak beside a deep cold lake. The two extremes of reaching for the heavens and sinking down into the depths, a card that represented extreme opposites, and depending on its place in a reading, either the union of those opposites or their eternal irreconcilability.

There was no context yet. Verelan tried to keep her face impassive.(edited)

Sindari raised her brow and picked up another one. She watched Verelan carefully as she tossed the worn card over.

A flock of birds flying in thier diamond formation across the sun

A card of change, winged migration. The birds flew in those formations from one home to another with the changing of the seasons. Impermanence, eternally repeating cycles. And the element of Air - which governs the two opposites of freedom and fear.

She picked up the next one, at lest this way they were not arguing with each other.

She tossed it over.

An eclipse.

Verelan's heart sank. Opposites, again, this time one that destroys the other. The meaning of the first card began to become clearer.

Sindari picks up the last card and walks it over to Verelan.

A sun over the sea.

What?

Three cards of irreconcilable opposites, inner conflict, inevitable change and destruction - and the final word is constancy and truth?

_Fvadt_ , in some provinces that card was associated with mnhei'sahe itself, the Ruling Passion, the law of the universe. (Did Sindari even believe in such silly old superstitions?)

But just looking at the card, she could almost feel the warmth of the sun on her face, hear the comforting roar of the waves of the sea.

Sindari sighed and began picking up the rest of the cards. Verelan face was giving away something she just couldn't tell what.

She silently handed the deck back to Verelan.

Verelan sat in silence, staring at the deck, shuffling and reshuffling it idly. When she looked up at Sindari, the emotion in her eyes was completely unreadable.

She leaned forward and kissed Sindari softly on the lips, lingering slightly, and still said nothing.

Then without a word she stood and left.


	4. Day Four

\--Med-bay--

****BEEP BEEP BEEP** **

Sindari looked up from the her console. The data banks had completed their cross reference with the new stipulations.

Sindari shot Ensign Westlake a message-

_Your results are ready_

Lyle scrambles into med-bay, wide-eyed. "What'd it say??"

Sindari smiles and pulls up the results, pointing to the various highlighted points on the diagram. "Most of your genetics were flagged as human." She explained. "The reason it was difficult to pin point whether or not you were Vulcan or Romulan is because you are both." She smiled.

Lyle's jaw drops. "Holy shit, Tori was right. Oh my god, I gotta go tell her."

Sindari didn't know who that was, but nodded anyway. "There are some health concerns with it comes to Vulcaniod hybrids, but we can discuss that when you return."

"Yeah- thank you, thank you so much!" Lyle says. "I'll be back, I need to go see- I might have an aunt, oh my god." Lyle presses their hands to their mouth for a second and takes a couple of shaky, deep breaths. "Okay- okay, I'm gonna go find Tori, and then- go from there, I guess."

Sindari pins the results to Lyle's file. "Of course. I hope you find what you are looking for Ensign." She states. "Do you want a copy for yourself?"

"Yes, please," Lyle says, nodding. "That would, uh, probably be helpful."

She hits a few buttons on her PADD and transfers over the copy to Lyles. "There you go. Can I trust you to return timely to go over you health concerns or will I have to make an appointment?" she teased.

"Yes, I'll be back, I promise," Lyle says.

Sindari nods and sits back at her desk. She was going to make an appointment anyway. Everyone was so flaky on the ship it was a miracle that they all were relatively healthy.

\--T’Vana’s Room--

T'Vana sits in her room, alone. She is wearing her formal robes and a full face of makeup already for the meeting with the governor of Vashti, even though there are still 2 hours and 48 minutes left until it takes place.

She shifts on the meditation mat and sighs quietly. A thought had been eating at the corners of her mind since the visit to station K-7, and had grown so strong it was hard to push it away any longer.

Had she made the right choice for the twins?

Vashti had been nothing like she was expecting. She wasn't certain what she had been expecting, honestly: she had never been off Vulcan before, knew little about Romulan culture beyond the insulting depictions she had grown with, and knew a grand total of two Romulan people. Or did she even know them? The raw cruelty of Sindari's public fight with Wayn had caught her by surprise when it really shouldn't have. All the warning signs had been there, and she had allowed her affection for her and her sympathy for the plight of the Romulan people cloud her logical assessment of the type of person Sindari could be. Verelan was not much better, always deflecting with her dry humor, always covering for Sindari, as afraid of vulnerability as T'Vana was. And what did she really know about the plight of the Romulan people, anyway? She had felt chRihan's destruction in Verelan's mind when they mind-melded in the arboretum, all those months ago... and that was it.

T'Vana bites her lower lip as she thinks she should have tried harder to break through Verelan and Sindari's shells, to learn more about the situation in Vashti before carting two children off to some godforsaken alien planet where the people live in poverty and rob offworlders in dark alleys.

T'Vana takes a deep a breath and closes her eyes as she begins her meditation. She breathes in and out slowly, deceptively calm, peeling back the layers of supposedly logical deductions and all the feelings she has been bottling up inside herself. It takes her a long time to arrive to the truth beneath it all.

The truth is, she doesn't want to let the twins go. She wants to find some justification to keep them with her as token, to feel like she is making a positive impact in the universe, like she could so vicariously rescue all Romulans from the nova, and take them back to the deserts of Vulcan herself, and heal the rift that tore their civilizations asunder thousands of years ago.

Moreover, T'Vana loves them. She does not see this as a good thing.

There is an old legend in Vulcan about the goddess of love, Valdena. Much like love itself, Valdena offered an enticing facade at first: a beautiful maiden in a light summer robe, dancing across the clouds with a tambourine. But those Vulcans who would see her, and be foolish enough to let themselves be beguiled would meet a dreadful fate at the hands of Love, for Valdena would capture them, and take them to a secret cave in the desert where she would reveal her darker side to them... she would turn into a giant a'lazb spider, and weave a wave of possessiveness and control around them, and keep them there forever, shielding those she loved from the outside world as she slowly asphyxiates them, keeping their beauty only to herself.

With a quiet sigh, T'Vana chastises herself for being emotional, for letting herself become attached to the point where it affects her logic. It takes her a few hours to quash her feelings sufficiently. When she opens her eyes, she performs a small ceremonial bow before standing up. She is determined to not keep the brightness of the boys to herself. She might not be able to do much for the Romulans... but the children offer a hope for the future beyond what she can do. They need to be free. T'Vana stands up, as prepared as she can to pick up the twins and head to the adoption meeting together, maybe walking side by side for the last time... as prepared as she can be to let them both go.

\--The Twins--

Gaius and Mirok are sitting in their quarters, playing a game with marbles.

They had been talking all night, possibly more seriously than they ever had before, and had run out of words.

But Mirok wanted to go to Bajor with Kimara and Tori, study engineering, go to a Federation school, and - he wouldn't even dare admit it to himself - study for the entrance exam to Starfleet Academy.

Gaius wanted to stay on Vashti. He wanted to learn from Havran about their history and struggles, learn to organize and lead people, help with his own hands where the people he had come from were struggling.

There was only one way to do both at once.

The big marble smacked into the little ones with a satisfying noise, and two identical marbles rolled away into opposite corners of the room.

Twin looked at twin, wordless understanding and agreement. They stared each other in the eye, then nodded, then wrapped each other in a fierce, tight hug.

\--Vashti Fields--

Zambinn, along with Lt. Honeycomb and several feral scientist beamed down directly to the fields of Vashti. The young Caitain woman looked about at the dying plants. This would work. It had to work. She moved over towards the supplies and started taking out the spray wring equipment. She handed one to the Klingon Doctor.

K'tsek takes the equipment Zambinn is handing him and starts mumbling as he tries to make it works.

Zambinn gives a small laugh. “Here let help doctor.” It’s not like this was common equipment.

Zambinn helps K’tsek put the small tank on his back and shows him how to hold the handle and nozzle where there solution will be sprayed from.

Due to fancy advancements in science no one has to wear jumpsuits or masks as the solution is harmless to those applying it.

“Just press this button and it should do the rest. Thank you for going the relief team to help.” She commends him.

"No, I got it-" K'tsek complains as Zambinn takes the equipment away from him. Still, he listens to her instruction and is soon spraying the field.

"That's no problem, it is way better than filling those lousy paperwork!" he laughs. "You are the admirable one. When I was your age, I would have find some way to have fun around here instead of... this."

Zambinn smiles and her eyes sparkle “who says I haven’t been having fun?” She tells him, spraying her row of the field.

K'tsek laughs, and he few officers turns to them at the noise. "Good! Good! You are young, you have to enjoy yourself," he winks.

Zambinn nods in agreement. “If I’m honest, I live for this stuff.” She admits. “Exploring new worlds, helping people, doing science, meeting people of various species.” She crosses over a stump, nimble feet keeping balance as she walks.

“People who stay on one planet all their lives have a really rigid view of the universe.”

Zambinn pauses and laughs loudly. Now it’s her turn to be looked at. She brushes off a tear from her cheek. “Well... I don’t know about ‘living in harmony’ but we certainly try to and it’s good to meet other species and know how they think and see the universe.”

She moves over and starts spraying by a row of grape vines. The romulan’s are known for wine in addition to ale but they probably haven’t had any in awhile.

“What about you!?” Zambinn says suddenly, realizing she never asked before “where did you grow up?”

His spray doesn't work and K'tsek shakes it and slaps it. More than needed is sprayed, and K'tsek quickly moves away, pretending it didn't happen.

"Oh, I was born on good old Qono'S."

Zambinn doesn’t see him struggling caught off guard by a a few insects in the soil. At least there was still life here. “What was that like? I’ve met a few Klingons but I’ve never been to Qono’s”

It was one of her things on her bucket list. Visit the Klingon homework’s, start a bar brawl, make love to a Klingon woman through battle and make love to a Klingon man as he read her poetry. So romantic.

"It was... lively. We are an agressive culture," he says, pride in his voice. "There was a lot of brawl. One of my aunt lived in a city where two days a month, the city was divided in two team and they had to battle to control all the bridges! It was a lot of fun."

Zambinn raises her head from her work. Her tail twitches and her ears raise. “Really! The entire city got in on the game? That’s amazing. Did you ever join?”

"Yes! A lot! I always end up throw over the bridges though," he laughs and few ensigns walks quickly away.

"What about you?" He sprays dead plants without realizing it. "I know you grew on a base and all, but did you know of any cool Caitians or human games?"

Zambinn’s ears are instantly down. She shakes her head “I didn’t, mom never took me to the homeworld of Cait. She was the last member of her clan. No family to go back and visit. She said starfleet was her clan now and I grew up thinking that way.”

Her buzzed with thought. Did the Caitian’s have any unique games, art, music, dances? She just didn’t know. Hmm, she might want to work on that.

“I would love to get thrown off a bridge in an epic battle to defend my city.” She tells him happily. Maybe we can recreate it sometime in the holodeck. Do a ‘capture the flag’ type game?” Oh yes, she did know that Terran game.

"We need to get a lot of people to do that!! The more the merrier!" He continues to spray the field, whistling. "Oh, and we should do that quick, I'm leaving in two days."

Zambinn nearly drops her sprayer “two days!” She asks in surprise.

She crosses the field and demands “what time are you leaving? What ship are you going to be on? Are you getting to see your fiancé? When is the wedding? Am I invited? who’s throwing your going away party?” She rattles off in quick succession.

K'tsek looks down at the woman, baffled by her reaction. "Didn't I told you I will be working on the Chekov after? And of course you are invited to the wedding! What kind of question is that?"

"And I have a going away party?" he adds with excitement

Zambinn take sour her PADD and starts tapping away. “Well you do now.” She informs him, designating herself the official party planner for it.

Zambinn resumes her work on the fields and starts forming plans in her mind. “You’ll have to give me the details of the wedding. What’s a Klingon ceremony like?”

"Did you ever see a Klingon opera?" he asks her.

Zambinn shakes her head in response. She’s never been one for any kind of ‘opera’.

"Well, it is like that. Lot of stage direction and fake battle against gods!" He raises his spray to the sky, ready to (fake) battle everything.

Zambinn ducks so that she doesn’t get sprayed, letting out a little eek as she does so. “Well that certainly sounds, uh, Klingon.” She stands again when he has control over the device and continues her work. “I can’t wait! Should I bring a gift?”

K'tsek shakes his head. "Just bring yourself! It is all I ask for." He pauses. "Also, don't tell Hili I invited you today. She was upset last time I call because I "can't invited half a spaceship to our weddind'." He makes the air quote with his hand.

Zambinn chuckles and then gives the ‘sealed lips’ gesture across her mouth. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She was definitely going to bring a gift for Hili. Maybe another belt. That would help smooth things over.

The team continues to spray until the fields are soaked with the solution. They head back to give the excess and the data to the local farmers.

\--Governors Office--

Governor Havran waits in his office - a place somehow grand and decrepit at the same time - for the others to arrive. The twins will be officially given over into Kimara and Tori's custody, and briefly registered as citizens of Vashti and the Romulan Free State. When they leave for Bajor, in a matter of weeks, they will have the option of keeping their Romulan citizenship, but he doubts they will take it. Still, it feels right to confer it upon them, even if it's only ceremonial in the end.

T'Vana arrives with the twins in tow precisely at the time appointed. The boys are marching dutifully in front of her, their usual wild demeanor a bit tempered by the gravity of the situation. They say their greetings and take their seats as T'Vana offers a more formal ta'al to the governor.(edited)

"Greetings, Lady T'Vana, and thank you for coming." He offers her a ta'al in return. He smiles at the serious-faced twins. "Jolan'tru, ke'rhinar."

Kimara and Tori arrive. Tori dressed in a fresh change of clothes for once thank to her wife's suggestion. They were a mixture of nervous excitement.

A new chapter in their lives was starting.

They greet the Governor and the boys and smile openly to the Vulcan that is with them.(edited)

Verelan is here too as a vaguely uncomfortable NPC.

T'Vana nods curtly to the boys' aunts and returns the greetings, trying hard to not smile out of politeness. The twins had told her about their informal meeting the day before, and T'Vana was pleased to hear they seemed nice.

Alceste enters shortly after, standing beside Verelan. He greets and observes everyone in the room carefully before offering her a reassuring smile.

There is a small silence, which T'Vana breaks with her usual Vulcan bluntness. "Thank you for organising this appointment, governor. I believe most of the arrangements were discussed informally yesterday. Let us formalise the reunion of this family in an official capacity" she requests, particularly monotone and deadpan, in a way that suggests she is working particularly hard to repress her emotions. 'Like ripping off a bandaid', as the Terrans say.

The twins glance nervously at each other.

Verelan's attention is distracted by the sight of the Governor's advisor, a white-haired Qowat Milat. Like the day before, she notices an odd resemblance, but this time - she can put her finger on it. The woman looks like her mother.

Kimara nods. As much as she and her brother never got along it was almost a relief to see the boys back with their family.

Tori winks at the boys and does her best to supress a smile, they weren't kidding about Vulcan's being so serious.

Saeihr is regarding Verelan calmly, her serene smile seems like it holds many secrets. She nods towards her before turning her attention to the matter at hand. "Thank you for locating the twins and bringing them to us. Both of you" she adds, glancing at Verelan again.

"This is an extraordinary moment," agrees Havran, reaching for the official paperwork. "To have even found the boys in the first place is remarkable, and to have found living blood relatives - nothing short of a miracle." He begins filling out the forms.

"Yeah but....you see.....the thing is...." A small voice pipes up: Mirok.

T'Vana raises an eyebrow at Mirok, surprised and curious.

After a pause, Saeihr smiles gently, "well, spit it out, boy" she says almost jokingly.

"Look....I'm really excited to move to Bajor, and go to Federation school and everything, and I want aunt Tori to teach me engineering ...."

He takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. "But my brother wants to stay here. He likes it here and he wants to stay with our people. And learn to help build things and stuff."

He shuffles his feet. "And I couldn't have any fun on Bajor if I knew I'd made my brother live somewhere he didn't want to."

Alceste crosses the room and rests encouraging hands on the backs of the boys' chairs.

Tori smirks at the children, no not children. They were growing up. Ready to make the choices that were best for each other.

Kimara takes the information in with a shaky breath before smiling. "Where would your brother stay?"

Havran blurts out, his eyes wide and misty. "Lady Kimara, I promise you, Gaius would be my own son, I would protect him with my life - "

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Another miracle?

Gaius looked at him and gave a small, secretive smile.

At first, T'Vana has a lot to say about that, and even feels alarmed, but she stays silent, and takes a deep breath. Ultimately, as much as Kimara was their blood relative, they barely knew her, and both positions were understandable. She knows as well as anyone that sometimes personal relationships must take a back seat to education. She nods gently, thinking that the boys have definitely changed- matured, under their care. She shoots a proud glance at Verelan and represses a smile.

Saeihr watches the situation with a fond smile. Sometimes the Elements sent unexpected developments...

Kimara looked at Havran, shocked. A small smile played on her lips.

"If that is what Gaius wants, I won't hold him back."

Tori slipped her hand into hers and squeezed it gently.

"It is!" Gaius blurts out.

Saeihr looks around from one person to another. There didn't seem to be any disagreement...

"In that case, may the Elements protect you, Mirok. As for you, Gaius, we can keep an eye on you ourselves" she says, directing a playful half-smile to Kimara and Tori.

Verelan watches the whole thing in astonishment. They have gone from two hell-raising street urchins to two honorable young men.

Gaius remembers the story of the boy who was raised as a Qowat Milat, and briefly wonders if he'll get to learn to fight with a sword.

Alceste kneels beside the boys and looks between them. "I'm sure this already feels very difficult. I made the decision to join Starfleet at your age. You're very capable young men, and I'm sure you'll be able to work past any emotional difficulties you may face," he tells them softly with a smile. "Please contact each other regularly, all right?"

They both nod. "Every day!" swears Mirok.

Kimara sniffed, she was not going to be an emotion mess. Not when the boys had made such an important decision.

"I will hold you to that." She laughed.

"Other wise I will come down here and personally ruin your replicators." Tori teased.

Gaius can't hold still any longer - he runs behind the desk and throws his arms around Havran's neck.

Havran is initially shocked. Then chuckles and embraces his son.

Alceste's smile widens, and he stands, turning to Havran. "Are there any counseling services available for Gaius? If not, I can ask my staff if any of them would be willing to stay here."

T'Vana arches her eyebrows in disbelief, and looks at Verelan, as if perhaps the woman could give her an explanation. None comes, and the Vulcan turns to the scene trying to suppress her amusement.

Saeihr, on the other hand, makes it plain. She lets out a chuckle and pats Havran on the back. "Seems like you'll make a great father, old friend"

"Perhaps Fate has something new in store for me after all..." he looks the young man directly in the eye and calls him by his name: "What do you think, Gaius ir-Vashti tr'Havranha?"

"I think it's not fate," muses the young man with almost comical seriousness. "Because it's a decision I made myself."

Havran ducks his head to the side so no one can see the big sloppy sentimental tear that runs down his face.

Mirok, meanwhile, has wrapped one arm around Kimara and one around Tori. No frontier life for him - he wants a nice house, a garden, his aunties, and a good school..

Havran looks at Alceste in mild confusion, Romulans don't really do or understand therapy. "Uh - do they need medical assistance?"

"It's a Terran custom. They are well" T'Vana nods from her corner.

"I can think of no better counselors than the Sisters, in any event," Havran indicates Saeihr in her Qowat Milat garb. "Whenever I am struggling with a difficult question, she helps me find my way to the truth."

Kimara and Tori are beaming. Tori bends down slightly and whispers. "Before we leave I can show you how to fix an irrigation system."

Saeihr nods gently, thanking Havran for the compliment. "We will always ensure his wellbeing"

"Yeah!" Mirok lights up.

He and Gaius could work together to help save the fields, their last escapade together as twins under the same sky.

Alceste nods in acceptance at Havran's decision. "I believe they should have emotional support from someone outside of their families, and I'm aware that Bajor has these services," he explains, turning to Mirok.

Havran nods in.......something approaching understanding. Still. Terrans were weird. "I suppose they were raised in a Terran environment, we will take care to see if they need anything."

He thinks. "Is there a way we can contact you if the need arises? Since you know them already..."

"I have already given them access to the relevant communication channels aboard the USS Bartholomew, as well as our personal contact details" T'Vana nods reassuringly. "They are free to contact any of us whenever needed"

Alceste nods. "If you ever need anything of me, please don't hesitate to send a message."

Kimara smiles. "Many thanks to you all." She looks down at Mirok. "I would have never thought this possible."

T'Vana is about to make a comment about the exact probability of such an occurrence, but after taking a look around, she decides against it. She is slowly getting better at what the tfi'kien call 'reading the room.'

"Very well" Saeihr says, clapping her hands together. "That means there are some more documents to sign, but I think we can get through it still" she half-jokes.

Verelan looks at T'Vana with a hesitant smile. It's not lost on her that she's been distant from the Vulcan lately.

T'Vana represses a fond smile when Verelan looks at her. They had done the right thing, in the end.

Kimara and Tori pounce on the paperwork, quickly racing through all the important sections.

Havran signs everything with a lazy, contented flourish.

Verelan, meanwhile is getting increasingly unnerved. The Sister looks like her mother. Her voice and her mannerisms are familiar. She isn't her mother, that much is clear, but she's so alike it's making Verelan's head spin. She politely excuses herself to step outside for some fresh air.

Alceste watches Verelan and Saeihr leave, his smile faltering, but it quickly returns as he shifts his attention back to the room. "Khlinae arhem. Bedah, Governor," he addresses in his ever-improving accent, says goodbye to the boys, and follows T'Vana out.

\--Vashti--

After all the paperwork had been resolved, T'Vana said her final goodbye to the twins, gave their aunts all the food she had cooked for them a few days before, hoping it will help them during the getting-settled-in process, said another final goodbye to the twins, and met Alceste just outside the building doors.

"Thank you for your assistance with this matter, Counsellor. Your contribution was valuable" T'Vana nods gently.

"Yes" T'Vana lies. "Are you returning to the beam-up point also, counsellor? If so, it would be logical that we walk there together" she states, trying hard to not sound desperate.

He nods silently and takes the first step. "Would you like to schedule something with me or one of the counseling staff?"

"There is no need for that" T'Vana says gently, trying to not appear confrontational. She simply saw no need for therapy, she could deal with her emotions by herself, as it should be. Besides, she had no desire to embarrass herself with the Counsellor by admiting to feeling vulnerable due to the attack, or because of the twins' departure.

His brow furrows the smallest amount in consideration. "Were you planning to meditate soon?"

"I meditate daily" T'Vana reassures him. "I have already done so today, but rest assured, I would again if it was necessary"

"I'm very glad." He continues gently, "I would be interested to join you sometime if you would be willing to have me."

"Certainly, Counsellor" T'Vana nods. Meditation was not Terran therapy, she was willing to do that.

"What are your impressions of Vashti?"

"It has the potential to thrive into a healthy and functional community," he answers honestly.

"Indeed. I do that now with the relief efforts and the antidote for the crops, things are better for its inhabitants " T'Vana muses as they pass by another Romulan, who eyes them with disdain. "The locals do appear to be quite aggressive at present" she adds

He smiles and lets out a quiet breath in relief. "I'm glad to hear the science department was successful." At the Romulan's gaze, he rests a light, protective hand on her shoulder for a moment and nods. "Have you experienced any difficulties?"

"Indeed" T'Vana replies before looking in confusion between the hand on her shoulder, then Alceste's face, then back to his hand. She supposes there is no need to hide it. "I did. On our first day planetside the transporter technician thought it was logical to let the twins beam down by themselves. I spent 6 hours, 39 minites and 26 seconds trying to find them, and in the process I was robbed" she states, hiding the vulnerability in her voice.

Alceste's eyes widen. "I'm sorry to hear that," he mutters. "What did they take from you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Jewellery" T'Vana replied. "They tried to take some money too, but... I fled before that happened" she explains cautiously.

He allows a moment of quiet. "Were you injured?"

"No" T'Vana reassures him. "Just small surface lacerations, which were easily healed by the dermal regenerator" she pauses for a moment.

"Were the boys all right?"

"Yes" T'Vana nods reassuringly, not wanting to display how worried she had been for them. "The attackers implied I was their target because I was a Federation citizen. Perhaps this is why the twins were unharmed" she muses

"I hope my and t'Mrian's diplomatic efforts will prove to be beneficial," he encourages.

"I have no doubt they will" T'Vana nods. "Were the negotiations successful?"

\--Vashti--

Saeihr follows the woman as she exits the building, apparently overwhelmed. "You did a good job, Verelan t'Mrian" she says almost casually from the doorway.

Verelan quickly turns around.

"I'm guessing you know my name because it was on the ship's manifest."

Right.....?

"You tell me" Saeihr replies playfully.

Verelan just stares, then looks at her feet.

"I'm sorry if I acted strangely during the meeting. You just look like someone I used to know."

"As do you, Verelan. You are the spitting image of your mother, did you know that?" Saeihr replies gently,

Verelan bites her lip. "How do you - did you - know my mother?" There is a slightly harsh edge to Verelan's voice that suggests she and her mother weren't particularly close.

"She was my sister" Saeihr replies, blunt as always. "I cannot explain how happy I am to see you safe"

Well that hits like a planetoid to the head. Verelan's mouth drops open and she turns pale.

"No, you - you must have me confused for someone else, my mother didn't have a sister - "

"On paper she didn't. She made sure of that" Saeihr states. It is difficult to discern from her tone if she is bitter about it, as her sister's insistence on erasing her from all records had helped her hide when she needed to. "The resemblance surely must prove otherwise" she says, intoninating it almost like a question.

"I..... wow, I need a minute," Verelan sits down on a nearby rock.

"She never told me about you...I guess you two didn't get along."

Verelan would ordinarily just assume the woman was lying. But she knows enough about the Qowat Milat to realize she isn't.

"That... wasn't the reason why" Saeihr replies pensively. "She had my name striken from all records... I suppose to protect her career. She was a Senator, you knew this, right?"

"Of course," Verelan answered in confusion. "She was a Senator my whole life."

And a self-interested one, at that. So there's no accusatory tone when she asks: "What did you do to her?"

"To her, nothing" Saeihr replies sincerely. "But I did a lot of things to the Empire she didn't approve of" she says almost teasingly. "I was in a resistance cell before the Qowat Milat took me in"

Verelan's eyes widen. "You mean....about seventy or eighty years ago?" she asks casually.

\--Corridors--

Alceste strides down the corridors until he's standing outside of Aamin's quarters, then rings the buzzer.

Aamin looks up from the data pad he was perusing, wondering who it is. He privately hopes it's Alceste. "Come in!" he calls.

He does so with a smile. "I'm glad to see that you're off-duty, Aamin."

"Yeah, I decided to take some time off," Aamin says. "Although I confess that I'm still kind of working. Just can't give it up, I guess. How're you doing?"

He chuckles. "I'm all right, thank you. It's our last day on Vashti. We could beam down and get some fresh air if you'd like." He adds, "If you would feel uncomfortable with that, we could only take a walk on the outskirts."

"I would love to!" Aamin says. "I've been cooped up inside this ship for a long time."

He nods and leads the other to the transporter room.

\--Vashti--

Alceste beams down with Aamin close to the city square and roams further past its lights when he hears the muted sound of a sudden movement. He startles and instinctively grabs the man's hand.

Aamin freezes, not sure where the sound was coming from, and holds onto Alceste's hand tightly.

He inspects the environment for a long minute and fails to see anything. He sighs and loosens his grip. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, you?" Aamin asks, peering around suspiciously.

"I'm all right." After reaching the edge of a barren field, he slips his hand away and sits on the sand-like dirt, looking up and patting the ground next to him invitingly. As Aamin moves to sit, Alceste notices his tail and his features brighten. "You have the new replicator codes?"

Aamin sits down. "Yeah!" he says. "I got them the other day. Now I have pants that fit me, both uniform and not uniform! I'm very glad."

"I am, too. How do you feel when people see your tail?" he mildly questions.

"It's taking a bit of getting used to," Aamin admits. "But it feels good. Still a little strange, but a good kind of strange."

His smile widens briefly. "The other day, I was in the cargo bay to pick up some orders when we took in a damaged freighter. There was a Cardassian woman on board," he mentions.

"Oh, really?" Aamin says, interested. "I hadn't heard about that. It's been a while since I've seen another Cardassian. I hope she wasn't rude to you or anything."

He frowns in the dusky light. "I didn't speak with her. Their crew attempted to loot us. I assume it must have been a smuggler ship; they seemed experienced."

"Oh, no," Aamin says, concerned. "I hope everything turned out all right. I mean, it can't have turned out too badly, since the ship is still in one piece, but you know what I mean."

He nods. "They disabled our phasers. I managed to get their captain in a carotid restraint, but someone impersonating another officer attacked me, and I had to defend myself. I don't enjoy hurting anyone.." he continues, his voice lowered.

"I'm sorry that happened," Aamin says quietly. "That must have been difficult to do."

"I didn't have to use too much force," he reassures. "I offered them medical attention in the brig, but they and most of the others escaped." He unnoticably fidgets with his hands. "I did visit Subcommander t'Mrian and Lieutenant Inn in sickbay, though."

"Were you okay?" Aamin asks, worrying.

He smiles a bit. "I had minor injuries to my hands. Theirs were more severe, and they were intoxicated on medication, so I decided to stay for a while."

"I hope they were all right," Aamin says. "It was nice of you to stay with them."

\--The Resturant Night--

Before the ship can leave Wayn has one last thing to do. He arrives back at the restaurant and enters. Taev gives a slight smile and head tilt in recognition as he enters. Dhael on the other hand doesn’t seem too pleased with his presence after he’d scolded her. Still Wayn bites the bullet and moves to the counter.

Dhael crossed her arms as he approaches. "Bar is closed." She deadpans.

Wayn can’t help but chuckle. “When you stand like that you look just like your sister.” He notes. Wayn moves over and offers out credit. “Just one drink for the road?” He asks.

Taev raises a brow at his daughter. It wouldn’t do to turn down business.

Dhael instantly puts her arms down at the observation and snatches up the credit. "Fine." She grabs him a glass and pours him the ale. "Make it quick bartender."

Wayn sits down and takes a sip thoughtfully. He’s glad the drink tastes better than it had during his first visit. “I’ve got a friend traveling this way, a Romulan” he says, putting down the glass. “I was hoping to tell him where to find some good food. If that’d be alright?”(edited)

Dhael stared at him suspiciously. "Your friend?" She asked incredulously. "Like Sindari is your friend or do you mean an actual friend?"

Wayn huffed. He had to admit they weren’t the same. Keras had saved his life a few times, Sindari... well she’d killed him. She shakes his head. “Keras helped me once, helped his people. He’s a good guy. A little quite, thoughtful, repressed.” At least emotionally. He doubted she’d believe him if he told her the whole story. “He also doesn’t put up with much and this is a rough town. I’ve benefitted having a friend like him. I thought maybe you would too.” He looks up to Dhael and let’s her see the truth in his eyes.

Dhael raised her eyebrow, what the hell was he getting at. "Sounds like you are giving me a bodyguard." she stated warily. She didn't like the sound of this at all, why would she need a damn thug hanging around?

Wayn shrugs. “I know you don’t like violence. And you probably don’t need any protection but,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a coin. It’s not worth anything, made of iron and too small to be melted for use on anything else. He passes it across the table to Dhael. “Just in case you ever do. He’s someone you can depend on. He... he cares about what’s left, of the Romulans. He’s a good friend, and you all seem like good people.”

Dhael looked at the coin curiously before taking it. "You are making me think someone might be targeting me." She said pocketing the coin.

"Thanks.....I think?"

Wayn raises a brow. He drains the last of his ale before standing. Then he holds Dhael’s gaze. “You keep telling people about your sister and you’ll make yourself a target.” He playfully scolds.

Wayn keeps his smile to let her know he means no harm by his statement. “I’ll let him know about your bar. If you ever need his help just give him that. He, well, he still owes me a few favors.”

Dhael scowls despite him being right. "I'll keep an eye out." She said.

Snatching the glass she quickly rinsed it off and put it back on the shelf. "Anything else dead man." She teased.

Wayn shakes his head. “Nah, that’s it.” He gives a wink to Dhael and a wave to Taev. His business done the Betazoid turns and exits the bar, back out to the streets of Vashti.

\--The Resturant Night--

Alceste nears the bar around dinner time, curious, and steps into it. He eyes the rich colors of the textured paint covering the surfaces and grazes his fingers across a table.

Taev is sitting on one of the empty tables peeling a bunch of vegetables while Dhael is making her rounds at the bar chatting with the farmers that just dragged themselves back from the fields.

The restaurant seems busier then it had been the past few months.

He glances over at the man and begins with a simple, "Jolan'tru."

Taev looks over at the newcomer. "Jolen'tru lloannen'galae" he pulled the container out of the center of the table.

"Food or Drink?"

He sits and folds his hands on the surface with a smile. "Both, please."

Taev turned to the bar and shouted. "Dhael, get a plate and a glass!"

He turned back to his task. "I hope you like meat or do all of you Federation types stick do vegetables?" he asked.

"Not at all. It's mostly Vulcans who tend to be vegetarian." He surveys the walls in more detail as he waits. "This art is beautiful."

Taev clears his throat before answering. "Dhael did them." he says with a hint of pride, motioning to the incoming woman.

She placed the plate of food and a glass of Ale in front of him. "Enjoy." She said before walking away to deal with someone else.

He smiles up at her, his eyes flitting across her face for a second with the hint of a change in his expression. "Khnai'ra." He turns to his plate and cuts into his food. "When she isn't too busy, you'll have to tell her that her work is appreciated."

He nods and resumes prepping the vegetables. "I will." He tosses the finished piece into the bowl and grabs another. "Are you from the same ship that has been in orbit?" He asked.

"Yes, I am." He takes a sip of ale and winces faintly with confusion. "We'll be leaving by the end of the day."

Taev notices his expression and smirks. "Come back in a few months and the ale will taste right again."

"I hadn't expected you all to be successful." he commented simply.

"I'd like that." His tone is genuine as he sets the glass down. "I didn't know we would be," he admits. "It isn't my department."

Taev chuckles. "Are you an Uhlan?" he asks eyeing his uniform. He was wearing the same colors that Sindari wore, he must have been a lower rank.

He flushes a little with embarrassment and politely gestures to his pips. "No, a Lieutenant. I haven't been an ensign in years."

Taev nods in understanding. "Ah," He tossed another veggie in the container and continued. "Medical or science?" he asked simply before letting out a cough into his sleeve.

"Medical, counseling," he answers and frowns. "Are you all right?"

He nods and clears his throat. "It's all this damn dust." he complains. "You have your captain's ear?" He raised his eyebrow incredulously.

"Yes," he remarks but understatedly mirrors the surprise. "Have you seen a doctor?"

"Ie." He says. "Not much to do other then take the hypos she gives me." He returns to his task.

"Hm. Do you have a caregiver?" he asks, sticking a cut of meat with his fork.

Taev lets out a sharp laugh. "I can still walk and work." he says. "And the doctors are not to far away."

He nods. "I'm very glad the clinic has supplies and extra medical staff."

"I am sure they are too." He says absently.

They sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the sounds of the bar.

"How has Sindari been?" He asked suddenly.

He stops and his eyes widen. "Oh." His voice is soft as he speaks, "I wouldn't know. I apologize."

Taev raises his eyebrow. "You are medical." He says it more as a statement. "Or are you strictly for the Captain?" He has no idea how Starfleet keeps their ships anymore.

\--Transporter Room--

Zambinn materializes back on the ship. Her last trip to Vashti over. The relief team was able to get the solution to all the fields. The formula given to the farmers of both the human and Romulan colonies. Zam had hoped to see her friend from the night before one last time but after hours of roaming the streets she’d been unable to see him and say good bye.

The half-Caitian made her way to quarters. Her mind full of memories; of helpful nuns, romantic card games and, most importantly, a hopeful and strong people.

Wayn comes back aboard the ship and heads to his quarters.

\--Epilogue--

\--Sindari’s Room--

Sindari woke up feel lighter then she had in the last few months. The Vashti mission had gone smoothly. There were no inane acts of sabotage, no diplomatic disasters, and surprisingly no one died.

Sindari rolled over and checked her PADD, no messages from Admiral Volkov, which meant he was pleased. Probably also meant that Admiral Setal hadn't declared war which was good. She sat up and stretched, have wondering if Setal would recommission Verelan...

Fvadt Verelan. Sindari stared at her dagger that somehow hadn't been returned yet.

She got up, showered, and put on her uniform. After making sure said dagger was secured she headed out.

Hnaev she was probably going to have to apologize too, she groaned inwardly.

Leaving her room she headed to the arboretum.

\--Arboretum--

Sindari entered the arboretum and looked around for the Doctor or his assistant.

Will is watering some lillies, humming under his breath. He hears footsteps behind him and turns slightly to see who had come in. Seeing the Nurse he smiles broadly, "Sindari, what can I do yeh fer?"

Sindari eyed the lillies, no those were too strange looking. "Good morning Doctor, I was hoping to take some plants from you." She stated. "Do you have anything from the Mnaeha providence or something similar?"

Will holds his watering can and places his hands on his hips while he thinks. The can continues to pour out at his feet.

"Mnaeha? I'm not sure, I know I have a few from Romulus but some areas are a wee thin on the ground. I can help yeh have a look though?" He offers

Sindari sighed, that is what she expected. "Yes, that would be helpful." She blinked at the can pouring water around his feet and quickly redirected her attention to his face. "Would you like me to hold that?"

Will looks down at his feet and curses as he steps away, "naw, yehre alright there" he says swooping down to place the can on the floor.

He starts walking towards the Romulan area, "are yeh making a wee bouquet fer Verelan?" He asks warmly

Sindari follows at a reasonable distance looking at the passing flora. "Yes, I have yet to return her weapon and.." she let out a long sigh. "I believe I have to apologize." She sounded mildly irritated.(edited)

Will nods, he gets to the area and stands back for Sindari to have a look, "now I'm not sure what yer apologising fer, but yeh could never go wrong with yellow blooms" he says pointing at a few small blossoms on a desert bush

Sindari looks at the tiny blooms. She had no idea what she was looking for and that was obvious by the blank look on her face as she stared at them. "She believes I don't trust her." She said simply.

"Do you think they yellow ones will be sufficient on their own?" she looks at the doctor for the answer.

"Depends how much yeh upset her" he points out taking a crouch by the flowers, he picks up a green bloom, its spindly petals delicately overturned, centres a light pink, "it's a wee difficult tah put a language on tah non Terran plants, but green is grand fer sincerity." He plucks one and holds it up, "an this one is a dock flower, I'm sure there would ah been plenty ah these milling about Mnaeha" he comments

Sindari inhaled. She had probably upset her a lot by the way the other night had gone. Though she had left her without explanation on what the hell was the deal with the card reading. "The dock flowers are pretty." She muttered to herself. "Can I use them all for the arrangement?"

Will frowns, "unfortunately not, but yeh can have half. There's not many ah these left an they can be a bitch tah cultivate" he says apologetically, he walks away for a moment to procure some paper for her to fold the flowers into.

"If yeh want I can try my best tah propagate more, then maybe she can have her own wee batch tah grow in her room?" His offer is said sternly but the clear warmth behind his words say that he was already planning to do it even if Sindari disagrees

Sindari nods with a small smile. "Of course."

She watched him as he moves about. "Thank you Doctor." She half wonders if Verelan even knew anything about plant care, then again she didn't know the first thing about it and her vine was growing just fine.

She shifts and opens her mouth as if to say something but closes it instantly.

Will grabs a few other flowers for their colours and shows them to Sindari, "I'm sure whatever yeh give her she'll appreciate, but these should help, they're not from Mnaeha directly, but they should be similar enough fer her to see yer thought process."

Sindari gazes at the combination of flowers. "I am sure you are correct." She watched him quietly as he arranges the plants. "Is there anything else I will need or are they acceptable like this."

Will is about to respond that this would be enough before changing his mind. He passes the bouquet over, "if its not too much of an ask... maybe offer her a wee bit a poetry alongside?" He scrapes his hand against the nape of his neck and gives her a sheepish look.

Sindari looks absolutely baffled. Poetry? There was a reason she filled out forms. She stands there silently blinking at Will. "I am not the most......creative person." she mutters suddenly extremely self conscious.

"Yeh don't need tah be creative, I'm sure she'd value what yeh put on paper" he says confidently, he pats her shoulder firmly before walking off to where his discarded watering can is. He calls over to her, "I wish yeh luck, Sindari"

She stood there for a moment before rushing out with a "ThankyouDoctor."

\--Verelan’s room--

Sindari stood outside Verelan's door, flowers and hastily written poem in hand, and pressed the buzzer, it would be rude to assume she could just use her override code. Even if she did have Verelan's dagger on her.

She looked at the paper and kicked herself for not just cooking something or ignoring the Doctor entirely.

Verelan, basically exhausted after everything that had happened on Vashti, is in her pajamas and looks like shit. She sighs, and asks the computer who is at the door.

"Nurse Sindari s'Hei," the placid reply.

She thinks for a moment.

Well, she's seen worse.

"Enter..."

Sindari stepped into the familiar room and stood near the door.

"Eiira, I have come to apologize." She said formally presenting the flowers, dagger, and poem. "And to finally return your heirloom."

Verelan looks up, startled.

Sindari looks so uncomfortable it's almost comical, having forced herself into sentimentality. Verelan goes over to her and accepts the flowers.

Little yellow wildflowers, and dock-blossoms from her own province. They smelled sweet like a long summer night.

"Thank you, Isha," she says quietly.

Sindari relaxed slightly. "Doctor O'Shannon said he would attempt to propagate more if you want some in your room." she said.

She shifted slightly. "Did you find the Sister?" she asked.

Verelan nods silently. Still shocked, still processing that one.

She looks curiously at the poem…

Gray as the clouds over the bay

Brighter than Eisn at noon

I do not know how to write poetry

Dr. O’Shannon told me to.

Verelan's face is a curious battleground, as she desperately tries not to laugh, and at the same time, her eyes get misty in appreciation. Sindari went way out of her comfort zone, all for her. It wasn't lost on her.

"I always meant for you to have the dagger, I suppose," she murmurs. Steps closer and hugs Sindari. "I'm no good when things get dangerous. I can't do what you do. But that way I could still be fighting alongside you."

Sindari held her tightly. "I am sorry that we do not always see eye to eye on these things." she kisses her cheek. "And for insulting the Elements." she half smiles. "Are you certain, I don't want your crest to get damaged."

Verelan shakes her head. "No, I want to see that crest actually fighting for our people again," she says a bit bitterly.

"I did meet Saeihr...."

Hang on. "Wait, how did you know - "

"She believed I was you, and there is no filter for the Qowat Milat so she told me everything." She grinned.

Verelan's eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling and she bursts out laughing. "Oh no! So now you know all about my obnoxious mother the pompous Senator, I suppose."

"...and the civil war, or whatever you want to call it. She told me a lot of things I never knew," offscreen, coming someday to an ao3 near you, "about what happened back then and why." She looks directly into Sindari's eyes. "And about the Praetorian Guard, and how things are never as black and white as they seem."

Sindari raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I am glad you were able to meet her. She seemed quite the interesting woman."

She fell silent for a moment. "I am sorry that I am not who you expected me to be, it was never my intention to deceive you."

"Isha..." Verelan sits down on the edge of the bed, and looks at the floor for a moment. "I'm the one who had too many preconceived ideas. First I ran away from you, then I ran to you just as recklessly. I saw what I wanted to see, and then I saw what my fear wanted to see."

She looks up again. "And I feel like i still have never seen you. Really you. I've always gotten in the way."

She fights back a ragged breath. "All I know is that something deep down keeps calling me back to you, again and again. And when the elements speak, I try to listen."

Sindari takes a seat next to her and chuckles slightly. "I don't think I have made it easy either." She stated flatly.

"You never did tell me what was on those cards." She looked at her curiously.

"It was a really strange reading," she admits. "The first three cards were all about polar opposites, cycles of change and opposites cancelling each other out. I was....starting to think the message from them was very clear."

She pauses, there is an uncomfortable silence. "Then the last card, out of nowhere, was clarity and honor. Absolute Candor, almost. The Ruling Passion, if you're from the capital province."

Sindari leaned back thoughtfully. "Fascinating." She said. "Never would have guessed that from the cards." She flashed her a playful smile.

"Perhaps you can show me again sometime?" She said tentatively.

"You know I always have them on me," she grabs them from her desk and holds out the deck with a wink. "Just pick one this time. Let's see if the other night we just didn't finish the poem."

Sindari picked one out of the center of the hand and flipped it over.

Two birds flying over a forest one slightly more ahead then the other.

Verelan bursts out laughing, hugs Sindari, and casts a dirty look up into the heavens - as if to say All right, Elements, well played, you cheeky feckers.

"We were just missing the last line," she manages, amid cathartic wheezes of laughter.

She points at the two birds. "This card always means faith. See? The one flying behind has to trust that the one ahead knows where she's going. And the one leading has to trust that the other one is still there behind her."

Sindari smiles, guess that was a good card. It was nice to see her finally laughing for real.

She listened to the explanation. "A perfect card then." She says.

She rests a hand on Sindari's cheek and looks at her playfully. "And it never specifies which bird is who," she points out.

"That would be entirely too accurate." She teased, turning to kiss her hand.

\--The End--


End file.
